


Passion

by businessirius



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, James Potter is a Good Friend, M/M, POV Alternating, Past Drug Addiction, Past Sexual Abuse, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug, Sirius Black Being an Idiot, Strangers to Lovers, Trans Sirius Black
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:42:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 30,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28513629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/businessirius/pseuds/businessirius
Summary: James Potter is everyone's favorite tattoo artist.Everyone, i.e, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. Almost a meet-cute, followed by a nearly romantic rendezvous.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 19
Kudos: 53
Collections: James and Lily Fanfics, Modern Marauders





	1. Movement I (Love is Love Before Love)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Titles are all ripped out from Vessel's single "Passion" for mental structure, but it's hardly a soundtrack since I didn't listen to it twice. I've been dancing around a couple AU ideas for months now, but this one installed itself on my mind's front seat, so we're committing to it now. I hope you fall for it as hard as I did!!
> 
> Movement I, James' point of view

James is scrolling down his Instagram, postponing a design he should be working on – the client asked for cool tones, but he knows that what he is doing would look so much better in pink and orange, and it will just be a waste of a hell of an idea if he ends up doing it with blues, and this is one of the many reasons he much prefers to tattoo his flashes, thank you very much.

He looks up when he hears the door opening, the little bell tinkling, a bag dropping on the floor, and takes in a sharp breath, mouth open in surprise before quickly taking the shape of a shit-eating grin.

“We haven’t vacuumed in months, I wouldn’t drop my designer bag on the floor”

“No need to worry, it’s only my Louie” Sirius lifts his sunglasses, purely for aesthetic purposes since it’s almost raining outside, and grins back.

James all but throws himself off his chair and runs to the door, lean arms wrapping around his neck and clutching his shoulders tight.

“You smell expensive” he says against Sirius’ ear, being granted the laugher he has so dearly missed in return, “How long are you staying?”

“Not long” Sirius sighs and steps back, hand still on his shoulder “I’ve got a seminar tomorrow by lunch, probably a lifetime long, and flight back at night. I’ve tried to stretch it, I did, but the end of the semester is always crazy, have to have a bunch of shit done by Monday”

James nods, “Glad you manage to squeeze in a little visit. Sleeping over?”

“Was counting on it - got the whole night to make sweet love to you” Sirius grabs his face and squeezes “You handsome motherfucker. How are you?”

James grins at him through squished cheeks, “Good. Business’s excellent, made rent this month without having to ask mom for help. She misses you, oh, you have no idea how much”

“It’s so reciprocal. Haven’t had a satisfactory head-scratch in months” Sirius shrugs off his coat “She’s alright? How about your dad?”

“Both great. Thrilled with Kyoto, Nala gets awfully jealous”

“I haven’t even met her yet, but I love her already. Evans?”

James runs a hand through his hair “Heard she got a new thing. An acquaintance to Marls’ ex”

“Ex?” Sirius asks James nods, “Thank God. You haven’t been talking, then?”

James puffs out, “Not really. We totally eye-fucked during Kingsley’s dinner party, had quite an erotic altercation, but she left before anything else happened. Next thing I know”

“Oh, buddy. That’s what, four months and a half since you last fucked?”

He scowls, “She drunk-texted a month or so ago, so”

“Ha. It’s on, then”

“You’re insufferable. What about shaved-hair-thing?”

“Who?”

“Instastory, circa October”

“October was a lifetime ago, Jim”

“He was handsome. For your standards”

Sirius parrots him, mockingly.

“Check your archives. Close friends”

Sirius does, and with their joint efforts, they manage to find it.

“Oh – oh, God, he wanted to fuck to The Weeknd. I’m not kidding. That’s Matthias, year above, and he wanted to fuck to the Weeknd”

James snorts, and manages to say “He wanted, and he did” before erupting in a fit of laughter.

Sirius shakes his head, “No comment. About bad decisions made while ridiculously high”

He pushes the collar of his shirt down, and James stares at the juncture of his shoulder and chest in astonishment, laughter suspended in his mouth.

“Jesus fuck” he runs his hand through his hair, and gets closer “I see arms, maybe legs?”

“Yup. The head is a world. It’s me”

“Of course”

Sirius sighs, “We were supposed to micro-dose on acid to focus on our assignment. Turns out that neither me nor my friends now what should a micro-dose look like, and Marie – she’s brilliant, bless her heart – had this epiphany, and next thing I know she was Gui’s stick and poke kit in her hand and I’m agreeing, enthusiastically agreeing, to this”

“But, like, she showed you the design first? Or was it improv?”

“Well, she must have shown me something, but what do I know. She’s a stupendous artist, I had faith in her. Kind of tried to embrace it for a week, but”

“Yeah. Want me to fix it up?”

“Do you have time?”

James nods, gets his drawing tablet, “A late afternoon appointment, but we’re good”

“Do not cover it completely, oui? I don’t want to hurt her feelings. Just, you know- make it pretty”

“Sure. Show me what you’ve been listening to”

With Sirius’ current favourite tunes in his ears, he gets to work, considerably more inspired than earlier. Pinks and oranges it was, yellows and light blues smeared around, a fine dark blue line, the words ‘Mendings, Major and Minor’ in clumsy, slender black.

Sirius watched him quietly, in awe, as he always did, back when it was notebooks and sharpies in James’ hands, his body offered as a canvas as soon as James expressed the interest in tattoo art, with felt-tipped pens and gouaches and paintbrushes and finally a needle at the tender age of seventeen, both of them teary-eyed and with a whole world to conquer.

“Fucking gorgeous, yes” Sirius says when he’s finished.

Size and placement are a bit trickier, Sirius’ arm and chest and neck being already inked, and it takes them a while to get it right. Then it’s the whirring sound of the tattoo gun, and finally excited laughter and arguing if the piece Sirius’ got in Amsterdam is the best one he has and then hot gossip from Paris’ art uni and finally going through uncanny DMs. When James gets his phone to show Sirius’ the most bizarre dialogue he ever partook in, his screen shows 19:14, and two missed calls.

“Oh my, fuck, fuck, my appointment” he gets up and slides in his socks to the entrance, “I’m so fucking sorry”

Remus Lupin looks up from where he is sitting on the couch, taking an earbud out and smiling, “Hello. All good?”

“I’m so, so fucking sorry, Lupin. Lost track of time”

“It’s fine. Can we still-”

“Sure, sure, of course. Follow through” he leads the way to his studio, finding a still-shirtless, still sat on the floor Sirius tying up his boots “Didn’t even print it yet. I’m sorry. You can blame this nuisance”

“He’s in love with me” Sirius retorts, and James laughs before running to the stencil printer, outside the room.

When he’s back, Sirius is up on his feet, shirt on his hands as he shows Remus his new piece.

“Very cool” Remus says to James, who grins at him.

“I like it a lot as well” James says, showing Remus two different size options for his own.

“Yes, _very cool_ ” Sirius parrots, pointedly, making Remus flinch sightly.

James tries a subtle glare, and then says “He’s the one with the ribs tattoo”

Sirius loses the attitude immediately, “You’re joking”

“He made a tantrum” James explains to a confused-looking Remus, “called me, like, who-”

“Fuck off” Sirius says harshly, before turning to Remus to sugar-coat it “I thought it was his best work to date. Got a bit jealous, I admit”

Remus smiles, without teeth. James waits for him to show Sirius, who does too, and when he doesn’t, James kicks Sirius out before he explicitly asks.

“You’re good to go? Glass of water, or anything else?”

“I’m fine, thank you. Really excited”

“Me too” James smiles, gets his gear ready “It worked really well, your idea”

“Thank you. For drawing it, I mean. I know you prefer to do your own”

“Ah, come off it, I just said it was a good concept”

“Well, thank you” he smiles, and proceeds to study James’ every move.

It is the third piece James does on him, the smaller one yet, a bunch of colorful, regular circles on his wrist. Apart from the two James did, one on his ribs and other on his thigh, he only has another one, in the middle of his chest, that he already had the first time he came in, and it is awfully flattering to James, his evident preference.

He looks delighted when it’s done, shinning eyes, a torrent of thank-yous, turning his wrist to see it from every angle, a sincere smile on.

“Thank you, it’s lovely, thank you”

“Do you reckon it’s very cool?” James asks playfully, and Remus’ enchanted expression turns quickly into a grimace, making James laugh, “Oh my, Lupin, I’m only kidding”

“No, I- I know, it was a bit stupid. Very cool sounds dead cringy. Should’ve just said it was gorgeous, or stunning, or literally anything else”

“It’s- it’s nothing, really” James reassures as he stores the money, regretting having made the joke “Didn’t mean to make fun of you. Neither did Sirius”

Remus looks a bit uncomfortable as he nods, and James takes a picture to post, insisting on the aftercare discourse Remus already knows.

“Stay a bit, let me just tidy everything” he asks when Remus looks like he’s ready to go “we’re probably going to grab something to eat, you’re welcome to join”

“Oh, hum” Remus exhales, caught off guard “thank you, but I wouldn’t want to intrude”

“Not an intrusion, mate. And it’s G’s, on a Friday, it’s hardly going to be just be the two of us”

Remus chews on this thumb, “Well, alright”

Sirius is on his best behavior: asks if Remus is tagging along unprovoked, tells him the tattoo is “the cutest”, says he was been wanting to ink his hands forever, but it always feels like too big of a commitment because he works with them, stares at them all the time.

Remus nods, sympathetic, but doesn’t engage, so James picks it up and they discuss both brilliant and terrible things they’ve seen tatted on hands, disagreeing on which category the words ‘DROP DEAD GORGEOUS’ written on fingers fall. Remus favors James’ side.

“I knew a girl” Remus says when they sit down, “she played the cello, and had really fine, minimal lines tatted on her fingers, left hand, which is the fingering hand, and when she lined them up a certain way-”

“Oh” Sirius marvels “Brilliant”

Remus smiles, with teeth, and Sirius smiles back. He proceeds to show him James’ earlier work on his arms, says it’s a pity the really first one is on his leg because it’s priceless, and Remus’ eyes follow avidly, chin propped up in his hand.

“This was Evans’, the only work of hers this earth has been blessed with” he says, pointing at the funny kitten with a cigarette in one hand and the trans pride flag in the other, and then points at James “That would be the girlfriend”

James knows what information is being handed out, watches Remus take it with bright eyes and a swift, long sip of his beer.

“Kind of on a break right now, though” he says as he licks grease of his finger and Sirius barks out a laugh.

Remus asks him a few questions – for how long has he been tattooing, how’s Moody, how’s his creative process, what’s the most challenging part – but smiles the brightest when it is Sirius who talks.

James is in the middle of explaining how Moody made him cry actual tears the first time he did a piece on him when he is interrupted by a sharp laugh.

“Sirius Black!” Marlene cries out, arms around his neck, Sirius placing his hands on his arm and shoulder, grinning. Lily Evans looks down on them, waterline painted black and eyes squeezed, a new nose piercing, the corner of her lips, impossibly pink and soft, turned downwards as she bites down a smile.

“Lousy company you’re keeping, Remus” she enunciates, voice warm and achingly familiar.

James gapes, “You two know each other?”

“College. We were on the same class” Remus says, subdued, barely audible over Sirius and Marlene’s excited screeching.

“Oh, so you’re smart” he says, stupidly, as Lily Evans sits next to him, leaning so she can listen to Remus. It feels as if everything fades out and the only thing that’s real is her weight against him, heavy and warm.

“Uh, dropped out, actually” Remus chews on the inside of his cheek, glances at Sirius and Marlene, who are staring back at him, and focuses on the remains of his chips.

“I thought you were coming back this year” Lily says, smiling, teeth sharp and tongue wetting her lips. James sees it in slow motion.

“Hm, I- well, you know. Maybe next year”

Lily nods, highlighter on her cheek bones shining, and meets James’ eyes for half a second “So, what have you been up to?”

Remus shrugs, “Oh, this and that. Nothing much, truly”

“You’re working at the second-hand store, right? Alice told me-”

“Uh, no. Not anymore” he scratches his neck “Overstaffed, you know”

Lily runs a hand through her hair, straightened and smelling like strawberries, and drops it inches away from James’. She nods sympathetically. Then, turns to Sirius, “What’s up, gorgeous? How are Parisian boys?”

It sounds awful even to Sirius, who smiles coyly and talks about his classes and current projects. Lily laughs, and makes fun of half the things he says, and James fights the urge to touch her thigh.

It seems like she gets impossibly closer with every beer. She has been sipping from his last couple ones, the taste of her lip-gloss precisely where he puts his mouth. By the time Alice gets there, James has his arm propped up on the back of the chair and is playing with a strand of red hair as Sirius talks.

“Hello” she greets, then looks at Remus, “How are you? Haven’t seen you in ages”

“I’m fine” he says, and hearing his voice James can’t recall the last time he spoke, “You?”

“A shit ton of work to do” Alice reaches for a water and swallows a pill “You know how it goes”

“Aren’t you done for the day?” Lily asks, and Alice shakes her head.

“Fucking behind on that essay due Monday. I’m here for a drink, a drink only, and when it hits, I’ll be hydrated and sat on my favourite spot at the library”

“Can’t you go tomorrow?”

“Can I get a place in the week before exams if I get there after 6 a.m? I’d rather do an all-nighter”

“What’s that?” James asks.

Alice snorts, and then “You’re serious? Damn, alright, Mr. Self Employed. Adderall”

“Oh, missing her” Sirius sighs.

“Do you want me to fix you up?”

“I’m on vacation, darling, thank you”

“Isn’t that, like, medication-”

“Everyone takes it”

“Not everyone-” Lily chimes in.

“Oh, God, no” Alice groans “After I leave, Evans, please”

“-Some people know it is unethical to be on it if you don’t have a prescription”

“Is it even safe?” James asks.

Sirius snorts, “Safe? Like alcohol, safe like caffeine?”

“I can’t believe you’re one of those”

“Those what, Evans?”

“Those who equate medication for ADD, who was an immediate and brutal effect in your performance, to an iced coffee, or a joint”

“It’s a drug, use it if when you please, for what you please” Sirius says and Alice rejoices, chanting out an amused ‘Amen’.

“Can we- can we not make an argument out of this when you’re all so ill-informed?” Marlene asks.

“It’s just fucking unfair for you to be on it without needing to, while set against other people, gives you a hell of an advantage. Bryce plays football-”

“Who?”

“A friend”

“God, I can’t believe you just namedropped the guy you’re fucking in the middle of this conversation” Sirius laughs.

“Excuse me?” Lily raises her voice “I don’t like- no, I don’t allow this little entitlement you think you have over-”

“Jesus Christ, take it you’re both obsessed with being the absolute best in your circle? Is it hot that he can’t handle another player on a bit of Addy?” Sirius laughs sharply, Alice joining him, and James attempts a glare.

“Come on, let’s – you have to admit that it’s a bit alarming to need a pill to do schoolwork”

“James, do shut-” Marlene says.

“Says the rich guy who finished high school because he’s rich and won’t need a degree because he’s rich” Alice interrupts her, and Sirius snorts.

“I don’t – Jim, love, I don’t need it. Like I don’t need alcohol to decompress, or molly to have a good time. It just helps. I don’t see no harm – as long as you’re not addicted”

“But you all are, aren’t you? Engage on a total of 0 activities to increase your attention span, then Big Pharma gives you a magic pill-”

“Oh, yes, the fem-rad speech”

“Jesus, Sirius, fuck off, will you? Are you aware of how much money this makes? You’ve doctors being paid to prescribe it to anyone who shows the slightest symptoms, preying on kids who struggle to be still and quiet and-”

Remus gets up and leaves.

“-the medication fucks them up”

“Fuck, I’m clearly against giving them to kids-”

“Oof, a bit rude” Alice says, “I should get going, too”

“Those are not separated issues, the general intake-” Lily trails off, makes eye contact with Marlene “What?”

Marlene glares at her, “Are you fucking stupid?”

She looks at Remus’ empty spot, subdued “I- I didn’t say anything”

Marlene trembles with frustration, and James can feel worry sweeping in, slowly but surely.

“Oh? Didn’t say anything that could possibly be triggering-”

“Marls”

“-to a guy who fucking OD’d-”

“What?” Sirius asks.

“-alone, in his dorm, so it’s safe to say on purpose-”

“Those are just rumors!”

“Jesus, Lily, fuck you! And you” she turns to Alice, “what the fuck was up with ‘you know how it goes’? Do you think? Do you have anything resembling a thought inside that brain?”

James feels dizzy, awfully guilty too.

“Couldn’t you just- taken it after you fucked off out of here? And couldn’t you-” she turns to Lily, again “couldn’t you just say to James, oh, hey, I’ve been having really boring hetero sex with this guy and I want to have really boring hetero sex with you, cut the shit without having to engage on a purposeless argument for him to agree with you and, therefore, have an excuse?”

“I- Jesus, Marlene, not my fault the guy is a bit unscrewed. I just took a pill. And I’m out of here”

As Alice leaves, she turns to Sirius too, who says, frightened in the face of a pissed-off Marlene, “I didn’t know”

“Well, of course, you couldn’t. But now, did you, or did you not, flirt with him before we got here?”

Sirius shots him a confused look, “I- McKinnon, what”

She groans, takes a deep breath “Don’t be daft. He was all- batting eyelashes at you, almost drooling, the whole shebang. It couldn’t be that ugly shirt alone”

“I literally met him a couple hours ago”

“That doesn’t answer my question”

“I don’t know, I guess so. A bit, nothing too-”

“Then why avoid his eyes when you’re surrounded by your friends? It- I can’t wrap my head around it, how you struggle to be affectionate, hell, not even affectionate, just decent-”

“I should- ought to you know if he’s still outside” James finds his voice, and only Lily hears, but she nods at him and he grabs his coat and leaves.

“-towards someone you might be attracted to. Like, we know you are gay, you-”

“You are absolutely reaching, McKinnon. I wasn’t holding back, and it’s not like it is my job-”

Outside is strikingly cold, and James finds Remus leaning against a wall, cigarette lit in his mouth. He gets closer, sees shaky breaths and shaky fingers and struggles to find what to say.

Remus turns before he can get anything out, and his eyes meet the floor again.

“I’m sorry”

“No, I- Lupin, no, _I’m_ sorry. Guess the rumors are true and I get a bit more stupid when with Evans” he shrugs, points at Remus’ packet “Spare me one?”

Remus’ mouth tightens as if he’s trying not to cry and he shows James an empty packet, “I’m sorry”.

He extends him his own, half smoked, and James declines with a smile.

“Should’ve- they are all new- I mean, you knew the girls from college, but it was a new environment” James clumsily apologizes, “Should’ve engaged you more, I’m sorry”

“Don’t- I mean, you’re not supposed” Remus lets out half a sob and gives up on pursuing the rest of the sentence. James puts an idiotic hand on his arm, hoping to give him some reassurance, and waits silently for him to finish his cigarette.

“Want to go back inside? It’ll be-”

“I called an Uber”

“Oh. Well, you can cancel it”

“I-” Remus says and then inhales, and James nods.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll wait with you”

Remus mirrors his nodding, and then looks down again, humming something beneath his breath.

“Lupin?”

“Hm?” he asks, without looking up.

“Are you- well, would you want to work with me?”

“What?”

“I mean- you’re interested. I can tell you have good ideas. If you wanted, we could arrange that”

“What? Why?”

James can’t articulate a good reasoning – wanting a mate to have lunch with, guilt and pity, a good hunch, desperation to alleviate the tension – but after saying it out loud, it does seem like a great idea, very on-brand.

“Well, you’ve got the time, don’t you? I could use the company”

“Don’t- don’t take the piss out of me”

“Am not”

Remus sways on his feet, chews on his thumb.

“I’m- unexperienced. On the verge of crying because I can’t hold my end of a conversation with your friends- who seem nice. It’s- it’s unreasonable, you know that”

James smiles, “They’re not that nice”

A car arrives and Remus raises his arm, throws back a confused, pained, somewhat grateful look at James.

“Think about it. I’ll text you!”

**a few months later…**

James slides on the wheels of his chair to capture Remus in his selfie. He looks up from the tattoo gun he is cleaning, holds up two dirty fingers in a peace sign, and then turns back to work.

“What’s that for?” he asks as he throws the tissue in the trash can and gets a clean one.

“Sirius” James says, watches Remus’ hands increase in speed as he opens up the tissue, all the more when he tells him “He’s coming to London for my birthday”

“When?”

“On the 27th, next-”

“I- I know your birthday, Potter. I meant, when is he coming”

James drags a suggestive _hm_ , before telling him he’s getting there in a couple hours. Remus’ hands are lightspeed, and his screen lights up with a notification.

 **siriusb14ck:** coworker lookin gooood

“Lupin. Want to do a piece on him?”

Remus’ hands stop so fast it’s comical.

James is getting to know Remus. He knows his hands are in permanent motion all the time, doodling, tapping against surfaces, worrying his sleeves, being chewed on, but surprisingly steady when holding a tattoo gun.

He knows his favourite foods from brunches before work and Friday dinners after therapy, knows that he falls asleep twenty minutes into any movie but can watch seven episodes of Friends in a row from nights spent together. Knows that he is quite a morning person, and knows when to send him back home, if he comes in bleary-eyed, mouth twitching – actually, there’s progress there: two times now has Remus texted him that he was feeling down, saving himself the train ride.

James knows that he used to play the cello and knows why he stopped. Knows first concert, first time getting drunk, first book he fell in love with. Knows how to work with him, how to teach him what he needs to know and how to help him channel ideas that are all over the place.

He figures he can read frozen hands for what they are.

“It, it is not my decision”

“Yeah, but he will want one for sure, especially when it’s still such an exclusive” James raises his eyebrows in amusement, and Remus squints his eyes at him playfully “Do you feel ready?”

“If he wants, I mean, yes, sure. I would love to”

James smiles at him, watches Remus duck his head before allowing himself to smile, and shoots Sirius a message.

 **jamespo77er:** want him 2 ink u?

The reply comes immediately.

 **siriusb14ck:** yeahhh

“When you’d rather do it? Tomorrow and the day after I’m packed, maybe Friday if you’d rather have assistance?”

“Maybe today, between your appointments? Only if he really wants to and is free, of course, but, you know, since he would be already here, and I’m” he waves his hands to indicate nervousness.

James nods sympathetically and starts typing again.

 **jamespo77er:** as soon as u get here works?

 **siriusb14ck:** lmao

 **siriusb14ck:** sure

“Well, copy out your best doodles, my man”

Remus throws his head back, a contented sigh and then a gentle smile, as his eyes meet James’. Ear buds in, he does as he’s told.

That’s how James leaves him when his client arrives, and that’s how he is two hours and a half later, when the door opens again.

Before anyone can say anything, Taylor Swift’s “22” starts playing. Sirius, phone in hand, grins insanely.

“Oh my God, fuck off” James says, barely suppressing a laugh, and gets up to meet Sirius halfway.

“We are going to listen to this non-stop the next couple days, Jimmy. My quality of life decreased significantly after not being able to be feeling twenty-two anymore, I want you to truly enjoy it while you can” he says earnestly, and then, face nestled in James’ neck, turns to Remus “Hello. Are you spiritually aligned with this anthem, as of now?”

Remus blinks and hums, focusing, and replies a couple beats too late, “Also turned twenty-three a week or so ago, I’m afraid”

Sirius’ jaw drops in faux shock, and he steps away from James just enough for his furrowed, indignant eyebrows to be registered.

“We don’t have any good pictures, and he didn’t deem our spontaneous selfies nor the candid picture I took worthy of insta love” he explains, and Sirius tightens his lips and nods as if enlightened, albeit disappointed.

“Late birthday wishes, then” he gets off his coat and then turns to Remus, who tilts his head in appreciation and diverts his eyes “Did you have a good time?”

“Yes” he says, hands shuffling the stencils he had just meticulously done “We went out and it was really fun”

“He got plastered and gave it fucking everything at karaoke” James supplies, making Remus flip him off and Sirius laugh with feeling.

“You’re not even embarrassed” Sirius smiles cheekily as he leans in the counter, elbow almost touching Remus’ drawings, “You must be good”

Remus retreats his hands.

“He is” James says, “cocky about it, too. Had the gall to say I couldn’t carry a tune”

Sirius raises an amused eyebrow, “Yeah? That’s ruthless, Remus”

“Well, he can’t” he explains, and smiles as Sirius barks out a laugh.

“I’m sorry, I may not have your vocal range-”

“Potter, we’re talking about rhythm here. Which you clearly lack as well” he counterarguments, and when James opens his mouth and stutters in protest, Remus turns to a grinning Sirius, “We had this same exact disagreement, and got around to a couple of well-known songs to see if he could clap along-”

“That had nothing to do-”

“That’s- oh my, that’s literally the most efficient way to tell you’re tone deaf” he says and erupts in laughter, the genuine one with breath hitches and shaking shoulders, and Sirius laughs along, and James can’t help but join them.

“Alright, then, when you’re done taking the piss, your Majesty, we’ve got work to do”

Remus catches his breath and composes himself quickly, voice hoarse but gentle, “Yes, of course. Haven’t changed your mind?”

Sirius shakes his head, “The one you did on James is gorgeous”

Remus smiles, straightens his stencils, “So, these ones are the ones I’m the happiest with, I guess- got all of them ready in case you want to try out first, but if you don’t like neither you could look through my notebook and see if something catches your eye-”

“Are those finger tats?” Sirius asks, pointing at very evident finger tats, drawn within the outline of Remus’ own fingers.

“Hum, yeah. Yes, they are. Any-”

“Think I’ve made my mind up. I want those”

“Yeah? If you want to change anything, maybe think about it overnight-”

“I mean, I definitely want those- only if you’d rather do it tomorrow-”

Remus looks at James, asking for direction.

“I say do it now. We’re all here, ready, and he won’t change his mind. It’s a beautiful piece” he reassures.

That’s all it takes, and Remus smiles and leads the way to the studio.

He starts very professionally – every movement careful and precise, gently shaving and cleaning Sirius’ fingers and applying the stencil immaculately, James finding no need to intervene or correct anything.

When the design is laid out on Sirius’ fingers, Remus insists he sits and stares at it for ten minutes. James says it is rotten business, but Sirius complies and reassures him he adores it, and can’t wait to see it with color.

Remus has no issues with the tattoo gun. James helps with the changing of color for it to keep going smoothly, and it does. He nails it in the end – it is a simple drawing, but it works wonderfully.

Sirius sings its praises, and scolds James when they’re discussing prices and he finds out he did not pay Remus. “I’ve taught him how to do it, for free!” he argues, but Sirius does not accept it and insists on paying Remus 100 bucks, to make up for the previous exploitation.

It leads to an awfully awkward “No, there’s no need to” vs “No, I insist”, which ultimately ends when Sirius drops two £50 notes on the counter and runs to grab his coat.

“Who even walks around with over one-hundred cash?” James half sighs, half laughs as he stores it in the register.

“Are you done for the day?” Sirius asks.

James lifts his head to tell him that no, he is not, he has one appointment left but it should be over before nine, to find out the question wasn’t directed at him. He raises his eyebrows, stares at the two of them but isn’t lucky enough to catch any of their gazes.

“Ah, should stick around for the next appointment”

As stated before, James is starting to master the art of understanding Remus Lupin – though one could argue that it was so evident that he wanted to fuck off out of there and follow Sirius wherever, even the tattoo gun would’ve told him to go.

“I believe I will be able to manage this one on my own, Lupin”

“If you say so” he says, the cheek, the style, and starts tidying up his things.

James meets Sirius’ eyes, and is met with an amused shrug.

“Take him to the vegan brownies”

“Oh, yeah, nice” Remus agrees, on his way to a door that’s open for him.

“They’re so good”

“So good”

“And bring dinner home!”

“You’ve got it!”

The door closes with a thud and James waits until he’s out of ear shot to let out a disbelieving laugh.

After a tiring appointment and a sweltering subway ride, James gets home to a red-faced Remus, leaning on the doorway with dinner on his arms, and a jumping Sirius, wearing both of their coats.

Remus sees him first and holds his hand up in greeting. Sirius turns around swiftly,

“Could’ve given us the fucking keys, wanker”

James smiles as he throws an arm around Sirius, searching for them with his free hand, “Got used to French weather, did you?”

Teeth clattering, he flips him off, and takes the keys from James as soon as they emerge from his bag, opening the door in a hassle and rushing inside.

“Did you really tattoo someone’s ass-cheek?” Sirius asks as soon as the door closes behind Remus, who laughs heartily.

“It was more of a tramp-stamp”

“It was not” Remus argues as he starts his way up the stairs.

“Like, I tried to pull it as far up as I could-”

“Oh my God, no” Sirius says with his last breath, before folding in on himself with laughter.

“He did not believe in me”

“It’s not- it didn’t turn out half-bad”

Remus snorts, “Sure, it was an immaculate shaving sesh”

James shoves a giggling Sirius so he can pick up his pace, “Fuck off, rad piece in the end. Keep fucking with me and I will pull a couple strings and get an ass for you to ink”

Sirius pulls James’ arm so he will look at him and mouths ‘Me’. James nods vehemently.

“Hoping it’s Moody’s”

“Fuck, no way I can’t compete with that” Sirius mutters and James laughs as he agrees. Remus turns back to look at them.

“You were the funniest part of the whole ordeal, truth be told” he states, and then turns to Sirius “you should’ve seen him, so genuinely embarrassed-”

“It was fucking bizarre” he says as he reaches the door, and his eyes stay on Sirius’ as they get to him and he opens the door.

Sirius feigns struggle to get out of Remus’ coat, smiling when he helps him out of it and granting him the sweetest ‘thank you’, before announcing he is off to a very careful shower.

James follows Remus to the kitchen and gets beers for both of them. Remus sits on the counter and avoids eye contact, and James instructs himself to just let it be, but his resolve breaks in less than a minute.

“So, did you have a good time?”

Remus nods, and when James’ gaze starts to burn, he adds “A bit weird”

“But good-weird?”

“Not bad weird” Remus shrugs, and fidgets with his fingers “Do you want to roll one up?”

James nods and gets to it. He’s lighting it when Remus says,

“I don’t think I said enough, I suppose”

“How do you mean?”

“It’s just – he had all this stories, like, fun, amazing stories”

James waits for him to get anywhere, and then says “A ass tattoo is a fun and amazing story”

Remus, snorts, “I guess”

James has a great range of compliments and reassurances to prove to Remus he is great to hang out with, but Sirius’ footsteps down the hallway tell him he has to keep it short and sweet.

“If you had fun, he had too, Lupin”

Remus nods as he exhales smoke and keeps his eyes down as Sirius enters the kitchen.

“Look at this gorgeous piece I just got” he says, hands held out in front of Remus, fishing a shy smile and the joint out of him.

They smoke it while discussing the current football season, which Sirius still follows religiously, even from France, and Remus has gotten into, even if a little forcefully.

“I miss it so fucking much” Sirius says after he finally eats his first spoonful, hang mid-air for the entire duration of his lecture on Manchester’s performance the previous Tuesday.

“I can gather the team around this weekend, we do it sometimes”

Sirius nods as he smiles and stuffs another spoon into his full mouth.

“You used to play together?”

Sirius nods, and James says, “He was the star of the team”, being granted a head tilt of agreement.

“I bet” Remus smiles.

“I have got a shitload of pictures in my laptop, let me go get it”

When James returns they’ve moved to the couch; he sits on the other side of Remus and places the laptop on his knees. The folder from 2016 makes them laugh and sigh with nostalgia and dig years old gossip for Remus to revel in.

“You know what this is?” James asks before pressing play on a video.

“Fuck” Sirius laughs “I think I do”

“You just pay attention Lupin, this is insane”

The video is being recorded from the benches and focuses on number 14 receiving the ball and hoodwinking about 5 of the opponent players before scoring a clean goal. The crowd goes batshit, and from behind you can hear a woman screaming ‘That’s my baby’.

Sirius is hugging his knees and grinning. James plays it again.

“That was crazy” Remus sighs, face turned to Sirius but James can hear a smile, “Ever thought of going pro?”

Sirius thanks hangs in his mouth when the question registers. His smile falters, “Trans men don’t really get drafted”

“Oh, I’m- I’m sorry”

“You’re sorry?”

“I- that’s really shitty, that’s what I meant”

“It’s whatever” Sirius shrugs.

“Don’t be fucking rude” James bites back, goes with the lightest tone he can manage.

“I mean- it’s a bit obvious, no?” he sighs, and when Remus opens his mouth to apologize, “Don’t apologize. Just don’t- Jesus, yeah, I guess it still upsets me. But it is whatever, not even in a dismissive way, I like photography just fine, I excel at it, and, you know, _everyone_ is queer, which gives me a space and a freedom to be I would’ve never gotten in sports. So”

Silence dawns for a minute.

“That’s great. It really is. Still, I’m sorry. Both for my thoughtlessness and, well, bigotry in general”

“That’s alright” Sirius nods, and then breaks into a smile, _“sorry for transphobia”_

“Must be an inconvenience sometimes” James chimes in, but Sirius rolls his eyes.

“Come on Jim, get your own jokes with Remus”

“Him apologizing for cis-normativity is just yours”

“Yes” Sirius enunciates and smiles over at him before sliding on to the next photograph, a picture of him with James under his arm, both of them dripping sweat and biting down on their gold medals.

“Such babies. Can your Air drop it to me?”

Next on is a video of the boys’ locker room, variations of ‘Fuck yes, Black’ coming from every direction, and then a couple seconds of Sirius, grinning and out of breath, getting the best part of his face kissed.

“You see him around?” Sirius asks as he curates his Instagram story.

“Xavier?”

“Hum-hum”

“Not really. His socials are so fucking cryptic, though”

“Tell me about it. What do you mean you don’t broadcast your entire life on your Close Friends?”

Remus shifts slightly, “That’s the guy in the video?”

“Yeah” Sirius nods, eyes still on his phone as he gets the colors of the caption right, “Team captain. I was in love with him”

James struggles to repress a giggle. Sirius gives in, and then gives Remus an explanation.

“It’s really fucking weird to say it like that, you know? Because it was an entire thing back then, that was very much unrequited and I tried very hard to hide, and then when I moved abroad it was Buried Business, and even saying it now, completely aware that it was true and it won’t leave this room, still feels so weirdly clandestine?”

“I asked him once and he denied” James supplies.

“Oh, but you knew. I knew you knew. You couldn’t stand him”

“I mean, come on” James gestures to the video on his laptop screen “It’s asshole-ish to act like that with someone who feels a way you don’t. And he did it all the time”

“He knew?” Remus asks Sirius.

“Yeah, we discussed it. In the history’s most miserable and awkward text string” he scratched his knee “But I disagree. Like, rejection stung, of course, but losing the connection and the intimacy we had would’ve hurt more. I’m grateful Xavi and I managed to keep a good friendship, you know, in spite of it”

James gives him a look which reads ‘it made you terribly miserable’ but knows better than to argue, so he clutches his chest and gives them a theatrical “You sound so grown”.

“Why thank you” Sirius replies with the same faux-emotion, and slides to the next photo.

After the following three, and they get to a selfie of James and Lily, James kissing her cheek and Lily puckering her lips and holding out a peace sign. Remus whoops in delight.

“That’s Evans? She looks astonishingly different, oh my-”

“I do too, fuck off!”

“Hardly. I- you really were high school sweethearts. I thought you just had a crush and called it-”

“Take a hike, Lupin” James laughs, and then gestures between the both of them “I’ll have you know that Sirius is my relationship’s biggest fan. Which is funny, considering that Lily would choose you over him like, any day”

Sirius’ mouth drops and he gapes with betrayal. Remus turns to him and kindly reassures, “She probably wouldn’t. Honestly, it feels like she is making fun of me whenever we talk”

“No, that’s just how she is” Sirius drops his head and hides his face in his hands “I can actually see you two getting along. I’m doomed”

“They do, they bond over house décor shows and obscure books and overpriced coffee”

Sirius shakes his head in disappointment, and uncovers his face to look at Remus, studies him for a bit before asking “Why don’t you like her, then?”

“I like her” he says, hands on his ankles and then eyes on his hands “I just think they clash a lot”

“He says we’re chaotic”

“Well, it sums it up”

“It’s actually painful to witness” Remus says as he looks at James and Sirius snorts “I mean, take me for an example, you make a whole lot of allowances for me and are very forgiving when I mess up, but when Evans does something that’s not what you wanted her to do you get so angry, so vindictive-”

“And she doesn’t?”

“No, yeah, she does too. Like, you’re actually dating, at the moment, after so much teasing and chasing, and it’s still such a struggle. That’s what I don’t really get, how you both chase someone that brings out the meanest in you”

“I don’t- I don’t think we bring that out of each other, I think it’s something inherent to being in a relationship. Like, there’s a lot of shit in you that you don’t really get the depth and the width of until you’re elbow deep intimate with someone else, and vice-versa, and that’s upsetting for both parties involved. That’s just what it is, love hurts because seeing yourself and, you know, being seen, hurts”

Remus is a bit subdued, “I can understand that. But you should be with someone who pushes you to do good when it hurts, no? Instead of trying to hit each other at all the odd angles”

James shrugs, “Getting pissed out and, okay, making a scene, isn’t necessarily not doing good. If it’s not abusive. Like, I see what you mean, and I admit we sometimes act like we’re still seventeen, but that’s how we are, how we’ve always been. But we keep finding each other. If you envision a gentler way of, you know, ironing out the edges, I believe you will find it. I do. But there’s just no envisioning anything different for me when I’m so, well, whipped”

Remus lets out a gentle chuckle and nods, “Clearly”. Sirius’ eyes sweep from James to him, and their eyes meet before Remus turns his head and checks the clock on the screen.

“It’s getting a bit late, I think I should get going”

“You left the bike at the shop”

“I- shit”

“Stay over, and we can go together tomorrow”

“Alright” Remus nods, and grabs his phone.

They scroll in their respective phones for a while. When Remus yawns, James leaves to get him some clothes, and when he’s back Remus is shirtless, and Sirius is running his fingers down the stag on his ribs.

“Couldn’t rest properly before getting your hands on it, could you?”

“It’s a bit wobbly here. It soothes me”

“Fuck you, not it’s not. Where?”

Remus himself looks like a deer caught in the headlights with the both of them perched over his side. He’s trembling slightly, has goosebumps all over, is hardly breathing and yes, definitely blushing.

Sirius traces over an impeccable line, which earns him a slap on the back of his head.

“Come on, we will leave you to rest” James says as he lifts himself up and pulls the sleeve of Sirius’ jumper “Night, Lupin”

“Night, Bambi” Sirius teases, and trumps it with a winning smile. Remus just looks terribly embarrassed.

“Goodnight" he manages to say.


	2. Movement II (Trust)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for the use of the T-slur
> 
> Hello, fellow working people
> 
> First things first, this is after all a tattoo AU and these boys are artists, they get artworks inked on themselves, none of that shit One Direction has. To get an idea, you should check out @espirro_ on instagram for James, and @ntmrz for Remus - that's how they look like in my head! I made a Pinterest moodboard as well, https://pin.it/1jJiKLd (hope the link works!!!)
> 
> Secondly, this is so so so much more dramatic/sad than I what thought it would be, but it should be taken into consideration that I was very much vibing when I outlined this and right now my country has the most covid cases per million habitants and the fascist party is the third political force, and a gal is her circumstances after all. This is a work of resistance, doesn't matter if I find it cringe in a few months
> 
> Alright, let's get to it. Movement II, Remus' point of view

Remus cups his hand around his ribs, trying to keep the ghost of Sirius’ fingertips in. He places his own where they stood, softly traces the antlers of his stag.

He’s inhaling and exhaling deeply, very slowly. It’s hard to name the feeling. He goes over all the words he knows in his head, but neither quite cut it.

He lets his fingers travel across his middle, up his chest.

Remus had thought about encountering Sirius again – it has bound to happen, him being such a close friend of James and all. He thought about it quite often actually, and it always played out like this: he was somehow infinitively more charming, a kick-ass tattoo artist with a lot of pieces done, friends who were fun and adored him, maybe even someone attractive under his arm, a new-found self-assurance, sometimes even a very mysterious aura. And Sirius would notice him, and think he was cool. And that would be it. No higher praise than for the coolest person you ever met to find you cool, right?

He hadn’t pictured slender fingers under the tattoo gun on his command, content hum-hums around chocolate cake for two, high-pitched laughter and teenage vulnerability, much less curious eyes on his body, paying no mind to a disastrous display of angry scars, just gazing carefully at a tattoo he loves so dearly.

Cool is quite the crutch word, isn’t it?

It’s impossible to pretend his fingers are Sirius’. His are heavier, more purposeful, don’t shake. He trades it for picturing it is his chest he is touching. Then his collarbone, his neck.

He had never gotten the appeal of people in magazines, or movie screens. The guy who worked at the fishing store, yes, thought he denied it at the time. Then, the years in which he did not look at other people that way, barely looked at other people at all, eyes always down. Now, he can tell if a barista in a coffee shop is fit, indulges in a bit of staring at a handsome stranger in the underground. But it’s hardly like this.

Are people in Paris this pretty, he asks himself and considers it quite a pertinent question. They have to be. He has never been this in awe by someone’s face before. He has never wanted anyone’s fingers beneath his clothing, never fantasized about tracing someone’s jaw.

He returns his fingers to his ribs, where the sensation feels the truest. He can recall the warmth, the weight. It’s quite soothing once he has chewed down the exhilaration. It rocks him to sleep.

-

He stretches his legs when he wakes up and his toes touch something that is not-couch. He cranes his neck up to see Sirius sat cross-legged at the end of the couch, frowning at his laptop screen, hair up.

Hair up makes it look ten times softer, and it also means neck exposed, a golden necklace glistening and ink teasing down his collar.

Remus checks the time on his phone: 11:34

“Hello”

“Hi” Remus looks up at eyes that are basically silver in the daylight and asks croakily “James left already?”

“Hm-hm. I asked him to give you a free day so we could hang out”

“Ah”

There isn’t a simpler sentence, but it hardly makes any sense. He wants a time window: are they going to get lunch and that’s it? Hang out until four-ish? Hang out until James leaves the parlor? What is he supposed to do with that amount of time?

“Not good?”

“No, no, it’s- it’s alright. You could’ve woken me up”

“Oh, I would” Sirius laughs “I’m not considerate, just a bit busy. It’s almost done thought, give me like ten? Fifteen? Maybe twenty, but I’ll do my best”

“Sure” Remus nods, lays down again, stretches and turns lazily until a hand rests on his ankle.

Eyes widen with surprise and careful not to make any noise that would betray him, Remus doesn’t move.

“Feel like going out?” Sirius asks him nonchalantly “There’s a couple cool exhibitions up”

“Okay”

“Here, help me pick them out”

It is with sadness that Remus’ ankle parts from Sirius’ warm hand when he sits up and gets closer so he can look at his laptop. Sirius’ hand remains in the same place, so within reach, and the simple fact that he noticed it feels absolutely insane, to realize it, to think about taking it, even if it’s just an abstract thought.

It’s easy to pick out the two most interesting exhibitions, especially considering that they are within walking distance from one another. Having reached an agreement, Remus goes for a shower. Sirius’ earrings are set next to the sink and he holds them in his hand, turns them gently. His mouth goes dry.

The underground trip is alright: Sirius has a leopard-print puffer jacket that makes him the fluffiest thing to ever walk the earth, he makes silly jokes for Remus to laugh at and harmonizes with the robotic voice that hands out information.

Getting food is slightly harder, for Sirius starts asking questions, probably bothered by the fact that Remus knows how each of his last birthdays went and he knows close to nothing. Remus struggles a bit to say things that are both true and not sad, makes an effort to distinguish sarcasm from belittling himself and doesn’t cross that line.

Sirius listens to him with his cheeks cold-red and hair wind-disheveled – is he aware of how he looks? They eventually fall in silence, keep quiet for the rest of their meal and Remus starts to worry, stomach turning while he thinks about excuses to leave.

He has decided on a headache, sure that Sirius won’t mind it at all, will probably even thank him for it, when they encounter London’s most adorable dog. Sirius crouches down and the dog, named Mel, is at its happiest, tail wagging and panting through a smile as Sirius pets her and asks her who’s a good girl. Remus can relate to Mel to an extent, a fact evident in the way he trips over his own feet when Sirius’ brushes his hands on his clothed arm to clean up the drool.

He recovers by shoving Sirius with exaggerated disgust, and conversation about dogs entertains them until they reach their destination, making prospects of feigned headaches go away.

Remus is glad he decided against it: the exhibitions are interesting, Sirius says things that are easy to reply to and as Remus speaks his comments get smarter and more elaborated, which has to be a good thing. It is time well-spent, listening to him.

He says something somewhat mean and Sirius has to put his hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. Once outside, Remus gets a cigarette between his teeth and rummages his pockets for his lighter.

Sirius offers his up, gets close to cup his gloved-for-protection hand around the flame and stays close to light his cigarette on Remus’ tip. Remus almost chokes on his first drag.

“So, which piece was your favourite?”

Remus pretends to think for a bit. Shakily, he says, “Hm, the Rodney Graham’s one, I think”

“Verwandlungsmusik”

“Ya. Very German”

“Why, thank you. Yeah, the math was insane. Especially since you’re into it”

“What?”

“Math, I meant. College with Lily, and what not”

“Right” he says, and cello too, he wants to say, mostly cello, and missing it so much it feels like an amputated limp, permanently breathing wrong without it, almost a thousand and half days without it, while in Verwandlungsmusik it plays for thirty-nine million years, staggering until perfection.

“Good thing you’ve followed the dumbest half’s path there. I would eventually end up getting a hand tattoo ten times uglier. Can you imagine?”

“I can. Oh, God, people would give you pity looks all the time. Like, the French barista at the French coffee shop giving you French change and looking at your hand like” Remus makes a displeased expression and Sirius laughs “or when you’re like debuting your first exhibition and hanging the thingies, whoever owns the space reconsidering the opportunity they gave you. Or your classmates when-”

“You’re just dancing around saying when I’m wanking someone off, go on, you can say it”

“Sure” Remus breaths out, but it must sound as baffled as he feels because Sirius barks out a laugh.

“I always catch up to these things. You’ve been warned”

His cigarette’s almost reaching its end when Remus exhales, “I suppose I miss it. Not college” because he doesn’t miss secondary, not at all “but, you know. Getting lost in something I enjoyed”

“Yeah. But can’t you like- do math recreationally? Without the pressure for grades and all that?”

“I suppose” he shrugs as he stubs his cigarette, he can’t play without _him_ , no matter the amount of miles or the thickness of prison bars between them “it’s hard to not remember everything around it”

“Damn. Did- I don’t mean to-” he is interrupted by his ringtone and grabs his phone from his pocket, “It’s James, it will be quick. Hello, darling. We’re uptown”

He turns to Remus and grabs the pocket of his jacket, just toying with the fabric through his gloves as he speaks to James. It’s incredibly soothing, and feels quite intimate even though he’s not really feeling the contact.

“You know I can’t give an honest answer with Evans by your side. Fuck that, it will be freezing. In that case, you come to us, we’re evidently nearer. How is it even possible for me to know my way around London better than you do? I-no, God no, the popcorn here is way better. That’s the kind of thing that does not change. Remus, do we want to go to the movies with the people we spent the whole day talking shit about? He’s nodding but seems unconvinced. Another reason for good popcorn. Don’t, shh, stop. I’ll see you soon”

He smiles up at Remus when he hangs up, impossibly long eyelashes and eyes that shine blue in this light, “Seems like we’re going to the movies”

He tugs on his pocket for him to follow. Remus doesn’t know where the movies are, he has never been, so he does, offers no resistance.

“What I was going to ask, and you don’t need to answer if it’s too intrusive, is what’s everything around it”

And that is why this is not a conversation starter. Remus can’t say it, he never understood people who did so with no qualms about it, written testimonies or words spoken to a camera, his heart gets stuck on his throat whenever he reads it or listens to it, _I was a victim. From ages. By my._

“Does it have anything to do with that argument Evans and I had when we went out?” Sirius insists at Remus’ silence.

Right. They’re not talking cello.

“Yeah, just- just didn’t know you remembered it. But yes, kind of. Basically, I was just, well, messing up prescribed anti-depressants and Adderall with whatever I could get my hands on”

“Damn”

“Yeah. And it- I felt like that was the best it would ever get, you know? Got unbearable at a certain point”

“Fuck. But now?” he asks tentatively.

“I'm clean, going on two years. Weakly therapy” he nods “In fact, I’m currently reducing the dosage of the prescribed Seroxat, you know, gradually”

Sirius nods, “That’s good. But do you, well, feel better?”

Remus huffs involuntarily, “I manage better”

From the moment it leaves his mouth it sounds incredibly rude, and ungrateful, and Remus is not sure if it is true. He felt good for the majority of that day, feels like that sometimes and he hadn’t in years, maybe ever, now that he speaks on it, he might actually feel better and he means to tell Sirius so, that James and the parlor have been a great help, when arms wrap around his neck.

He’s startled, then confused, takes a step back and when he finally understands what’s happening it’s a second too late. Sirius himself steps back, a terribly pained expression on his face and his hands retracted to his shoulders, held up in the air,

“Shit, I’m sorry. Should’ve asked first”

“No, it’s okay- I- didn’t-”

Sirius clears the air with his hand and Remus shuts up pathetically.

“I need to go to the loo. The underground is over there, we agreed on meeting here, so-”

“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead”

Sirius turns around and Remus flinches. How pathetic is it to not understand that you’re being hugged, or to say shit that requires comfort to someone you barely know? And why would he even elaborate on that, why the fuck would he say that he missed it, say that being high as a kite all day everyday was shit but the best he had ever been? What’s Sirius even supposed to think about that?

Got fucking side-tracked by the wanking off comment, that’s what it was. And that’s even more pathetic, because of course Sirius, Sirius who makes jokes and gets hugged on a daily basis, will live and be intimate with people with Remus’ piece on his hands, that’s hardly Remus’ piece anymore, and that’s obvious, that’s a given, and the fact that it weirded Remus out like it did is just frankly sad, no good excuse to spill all that out.

Sirius is taking an abnormally long time. Remus entertains the idea that he is being ghosted, digests the 0.3 seconds of warmth on his chest and pressure on his back and his utter inability to make it last until there’s nothing left, replays the conversation in his head a couple more times and when he feels like he will petrify out of embarrassment if he doesn’t move, he decides to go on a search.

He asks for directions to the bathroom, rehearses what he is going to say, something along the lines of _are you alright? You were taking so long, sorry for being terribly awkward, would love to know what has your favourite art piece_ , and then it all gets lost when he sees Sirius.

“What” he manages to get out, voice hoarse and mouth dry.

“Slipped and fell”

Remus steps closer and stands there uselessly, not knowing what to do with his hands, having ruled a lot of options out himself by jumping out of his skin just then. He stares between the blood and the bloodied tissues on the sink and Sirius’ swollen face, his strong grip on his bleeding nose and lip.

“What happened?”

“Just some asshole. Said something like, pissing sitting, fucking figures, fucking tranny, I said something like I bet it’s bigger than yours and you’re welcome to choke on it, and then it was self-defense from where I stood, really”

Remus bites his lips to prevent from crying, or getting angry, or offering to hold a new, clean tissue to Sirius wounds.

“Do you want me to get ice”

“Uh, yeah, actually. Thanks”

Remus nods and does, fingers drumming against the movies’ counter as he waits for it, sick to his stomach with dread and nervousness. He thanks the lady and it comes out ragged, and he has to practice deep breaths before he enters the bathroom again.

Sirius is sat down on the cold tiles. Remus holds the ice up to his temple, but he takes it in his hands.

“Does this happen often”

“Define often” Sirius says with somewhat an attitude, and Remus’ lip trembles.

Sirius stretches his legs, cracks his neck, “I suppose I bring a part of this upon myself. I could always ignore it. But I just- I hate being mistreated”

Remus just nods, chest burning with aching.

“It happens sometimes. It did more when I lived here, if you should know, me not knowing where it was safe to go out at night and taking every offense at school very personally – because it was personal, you know. They knew who I was”

“That’s vile”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is. I suppose I circulate in safer environments in Paris, but hell, when it calls for a fight I don’t hold back. And part of it is irrational anger, of course it is, but there’s also a need for justice in it, believe me. I know they won’t see any repercussions for it, ever, like, there’s no way I can report an assault and be taken seriously. Given that, you know. Maybe they’ll twice about throwing around slurs the next time they meet someone trans if I give them a concussion”

Remus nods, breaths out through the tightness of his throat, “God. How could anyone-”

“How could they not?” Sirius laughs humorlessly “We’re all fucking conditioned to be hate trans people. I know I fucking was. I mean, I know your _oh, why don’t you play on the national league, or why don’t people treat you respectfully_ are not malicious, and that cis-normativity is not an heavy thing for you to carry, and that it’s not your fault that transphobic violence goes unreported, but you can’t be this fucking gullible about that. Like, it’s cute that hurting me doesn’t cross your mind, you’d be out of your fucking job otherwise, but I cannot afford to spend every day explaining all the ways I am a target for-”

“No, no. I mean, yes. I’m sorry, I get it”

Sirius turns his head to study his face, a frown on while his eyes scatter Remus’ miserable expression.

“Good”

Remus can’t find anything to say that doesn’t sound fairly stupid. Not reassurance, not advise, not an apology – he knows better than that. He doesn’t know good enough though, doesn’t know how to do comfort.

Sirius’ phone rings again, and it’s a short phone call.

“Come on, they’re exiting the underground” he announces, dragging himself up. Remus would like to clean the bathroom – the sink, at the very least – but doesn’t want to be misinterpreted so he lets it go.

Sirius leads the way to the thematic booth – the movies are very cool, with a snazzy vintage aesthetic and a lot of neon – and Remus asks him if he can get him anything to drink.

“Hm- there’s this like, blue drink, blueberry something, extremely sugary, borderline diabetic – want that. And you could go ahead with the popcorn”

“Sweet or salty?”

“That’s offensive”

“Fair enough”

Remus gets a beer for him, the Blueberry Fairy Crazy Twirl XL for Sirius, bets on sweet popcorn and is quite nervous as Sirius picks one to test.

“Atta boy” he smiles as he goes for a handful, and his eyebrows lift when he sees James and Lily. Remus turns to see them at arm’s distance.

“Sorry we’re late, I’m afraid we missed the- what the fuck?”

“Got hate crime’d just then” Sirius says as he sucks on his straw.

James rushes to sit next to Sirius, holds his face in his hand and turns it to examine from all the angles. All that’s left for Remus to do is to sit down in front them, make space for Lily.

“What the fuck? Where?”

“Bathroom”

“And why were you in the bathroom alone?” he asks Remus, hand still holding Sirius’ jaw.

Remus feels it like a punch to the gut, like all the air has been sucked out of the room. He gapes helplessly, and his defensive tendencies take quite a regrettable turn,

“I would’ve gone with him if he’d asked”

“That would be quite cheeky” Sirius jokes sheepishly.

James snorts, “No, it wouldn’t”

“I mean” he says to James, who drops his face, then turns to Remus, “keep in mind what had just happened, right? What you’d think I meant if I asked you to go to the fucking-”

“That you felt safer, if you told me so!”

It comes out all wrong, embarrassment for apparently so transparent desires and guilt over impotence turned into annoyance directed at the wrong person, harsh where it should be compassionate, obnoxious and all about himself when it so clearly is not. Sirius reclines in his seat, fixes him with an unimpressed look.

“Oof” James says as if he had won something, reaches for Sirius’ reddened hand.

“I’m-I’m sorry. Didn’t mean it like that”

James dismisses the apology, makes fun of it while holding Sirius’ bruised hand, “You know talking like that to a recent victim counts as a hate crime too, right?”

“Oh my God, fuck off” Sirius rolls his eyes, keeps staring at Remus defensively, “I know you didn’t, but you don’t need to look so miserable, alright? Look, I meant everything I said, about it being a bigger deal than what you thought, but I don’t want you thinking I need a, a-”

James brings his hand to his mouth and pampers it with little kisses “cisgender pet”

Sirius tries to fight back a chuckle, “Right. I can hold my own. Like, the bloody nose is more my fault than it is yours. And I don’t even feel remorseful, so”

Sirius slumps down and grabs another handful of popcorn, finishing the conversation. Lily offers to buy the tickets, and James moves his kisses to Sirius’ temple, gently runs his hands through his hair. There’s no need for Remus to say anything, nothing valuable for him to do, so he just stares, calming down as he watches Sirius calm down too, glad that he has James to make him laugh and hold him after what happened, grieving for people like him, whom he doesn’t know, that go through similar shit and don’t have a James.

It’s hard to follow the movie. He gets a little lost on snapshots of the day, Sirius running to catch a train that was already lost and laughing on the underground, smiling and making small talk to the lady who sold them the tickets for the second exhibition and then injured and upset, and he can’t pause to recollect his thoughts or replay something he missed.

It is all too much – the image enormous, the sound too loud, Lily laughing and trying to steal kisses from James too distracting. By the end of it he is incredibly stressed out and can’t remember anything but the main character’s name.

When the lights turn on again, he glances at Sirius, three seats away, enthusiastically saying something to Lily, bottom lip swollen and cheekbone red and eyes bright and warm and not resentful or bitter at all, and he can feel his blood red-hot in his ears, frustrated and angry and undeniably infatuated. He checks his phone to occupy himself, blinks tears away.

James grabs his elbow, “Alright?”

“Yeah”

“I brought your bike from the store”

“Thanks. Where is it? I better-”

“Oh, no, let’s grab dinner first. I was just, like, giving you an information”

“I’ve got dinner at home”

“Lupin. It was 100% not your fault, it was an irrational first reaction from my part-”

“I-I’ve wanted to go home for the entirety of this day” he hisses in a low voice, exhales shakily, checks to confirm that Sirius did not hear it.

James frowns, rubs his thumb against Remus’ elbow, “Okay. I wouldn’t have gone to work without you if I thought it wasn’t what you wanted, yeah? Next time you can text me, and we can fix it”

Remus nods, and they follow Lily and Sirius out. James takes the chain key out of his wallet and hands it to Remus, who says his goodbyes.

“You’re leaving already?” Sirius decides to address him, and it sounds like an accusation.

“I’ve got a bunch of stuff to do before tomorrow” he explains himself, and Sirius replies with a sarcastic nod, that earns him a light scolding from Lily.

It is quite a long ride home. Remus doesn’t know when he started crying, just that he is sobbing by the time he reaches his door. He locks his bike, goes to his room without saying anything to his housemates, kicks his shoes out and slumps down on his bed.

He lets out sobs so dramatic and heart wrenching one would’ve thought it was him who got beaten up. A warning knock on his door tells him to keep it down, so he changes into comfy clothes, gets under the covers and puts headphones. Crying in a less maniacal way, he thinks obsessively about _I hate being mistreated_ , how sincere and small that sounded, how sad that is, to think that he does get mistreated, how cruel and how insane the fact that he has to fight for something that should be handed to him, and how is it possible that he still is so lovely and bright and good-humored and alive.

-

He wakes up with knocking on his door, instead of his alarm clock. He gets up to open it, and Lyn, his housemate, smiles up at him.

“Looking good, cowboy”

He tilts his head in half-amusement “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven. Are you going to work?”

“Hm-hm. My alarm didn’t go off”

“I figured. There’s only enough cereal for one and I thought I should ask before getting my second serving”

“Oh, thanks. I want it, you know that”

“I’m just that nice” she smiles, and goes to the kitchen with him “You alright? Had quite a dramatic entrance yesterday”

Remus scratches his neck, lets out a deep sigh. Lyn makes him quiet company while he eats, that he appreciates deeply.

He goes for a quick shower, picks one of his most stylish outfits to counterbalance the state his face is in, wallet keys phone phone-charger earbuds, gives Lyn a fist-bump and assures her he feels alright, gets on his bike, is ready for the day.

He gets two coffees from the closest coffee shop, talks himself through what is he going to say to James: first he will tell him that he lied, he did not spend the day wanting to go home, and then he will ask him for advice on how to be less useless in the face of a similar situation, considering that that amount of kisses may be a few too many. He’s got it.

But it’s not James’ eyes that he meets the second he crosses the threshold. He goes for a nod and Sirius mirrors it awkwardly. He is sat cross-legged with his laptop, plugged in the power socket, wearing light jeans and what seems like the softest, biggest wool sweater in the world. Remus has to perch over him to put his phone charging.

“Ran out of battery?”

“Hm? Oh, yes. Forgot to charge it last night”

Sirius hums back, “I texted you. Had to ask James for your number”

“Ah. Well” he places his phone on the couch arm, stands back awkwardly, unsure if he should sit down “What did you want?”

“To know if I was going to see you today”

Remus hums, gestures at himself, finishes it with a head bow when Sirius grants him an amused eye roll. He hands him the spare coffee.

“That’s not for me”

“I won’t tell if you don’t” Remus suggests and Sirius takes the coffee, places his laptop out of reach.

Remus sits down, quite close, watches him take a first sip and hum in approval, eyes closed and his cheek bruising purple. He opens his eyes, slowly turns his head and says quietly,

“Thought it might scare you off, or something”

“No” Remus shakes his head, grips his coffee as he tries to organize and prioritize what was left unsaid, “I really appreciated the no-bullshit approach, though. While explaining it to me, I mean. I guess I feel a bit, uh, intimidated when people are that blunt about, you know, but it was good. Like, there was no other way to do it”

Sirius looks at him carefully and concedes a smile through the coffee lid. We’ve done it, team Remus.

“Alright. In that case, I’d like to apologize. For being all, ooh, drugs are so fun, back when we met. Was just as naïve as I accused you of being. You know, I know addiction is not fun and, well, your recovery – recovery? Is that the right- okay, nice – is fucking amazing. It really is”

“Ah- thanks. Thank you, shouldn’t have unloaded all that on-”

“God, no, no” Sirius shakes his head “I asked, and I’m glad you told me”

Remus nods as he sips his coffee. It sounds sincere, and he reckons that he doesn’t mind having told Sirius about it all that much anymore.

“It was a good day, I think, despite it. Not- not despite, just until-”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. It was” Sirius smiles at him, and grips his hair tie with his front teeth “I had a lot of fun”

Remus watches the motion of Sirius tying his hair up, mouth-hands-hair-ink-trailing-down-his-collar.

“That piece you have here” Remus points, does not touch.

“Oh, yeah, one of my favs, let me” Sirius repositions himself so his back faces Remus, grips the fabric of his sweater and pulls it upwards “It’s the outline of the view I had from my room at the Potters’”

“Your room?”

“Yeah, lived there for a bit. Between being kicked out and studying abroad”

Remus sucks in a sharp breath and holds his sweater in place, eyes hungry running over the lean muscles and the tanned skin, wide when they see the gorgeous tattoo.

“Wow, wow. Great linework”

“Right?” Sirius agrees, composes his clothes and turns to Remus again, even closer, knees touching “He’s from London, if you want, I could give you his Instagram, maybe you can do an exchange- actually, have you posted mine?”

“Uh, I don’t have an account for it yet”

“Oh, your regular is just fine, until you have like, a brand. I’m an expert, I built James’ empire from scratch. Here, take my phone. The lightning’s great, come on, let’s get to it now”

Remus chuckles and gets pictures from all the angles, texts the best ones to his number. It is saved as just ‘Remus’, which he finds terribly sweet for no good reason, and sees the delivered text, which reads ‘hello, did you get home alright? jim gave me your number, I dont really get why would u leave like that, just wanted to know if youre upset. hows your day tomorrow, will I get 2 see u?'

He gets his phone, strong on its 10%, and curates his post with his heart two-sizes bigger, as Sirius shapes an insta-story into perfection.

“What’s your user?”

“rj-dot-lupin”

“Hm, got it. J stands for what?”

“John”

“Cute. Oh- four posts. Of course”

“What?”

“Come on”

“What?”

“Like, you know that’s hot”

Remus laughs, but mostly Remus blushes. Sirius tilts his head to give him a disbelieving look, eyes enthusiastic and smile lovely, and Remus itches to touch, anywhere, anyway.

“Say goodbye to all that unfair charm, though, because you’re onto a very full agenda” Sirius breaks eye contact, straightens his back “Now, go public. Unfollow all the tattoo artists and follow them again. I’m sending you the profile of the guy who did my back piece. Oh, hey Moody. I’m marketing, I figure it should be a paid job”

Remus turns to see Moody coming out of his studio with a client. He hums, raises his eyebrows while nodding ironically, says his farewells, appreciates the compliments he is given and then turns to Remus, “Tenderfoot. How did it feel to get your hands on Potter’s showcase?”

Remus smiles, “Good”

“Like one of those fellas who restore fucked-up art, right?” Moody jokes and Sirius feigns offense.

“I’m telling James, and I’m also telling him you don’t clean the store when you sign your name on the scale”

Moody flips him off, and then messes Remus’ hair up, “It’s a beautiful piece, kid”

“Thank you” Remus says and means it, even though he starts fixing his hair as soon as Moody’s hand retreats. Sirius laughs and provides assistance – he barely has to move, just lift his arm and in a second he’s touching Remus’ hair and Remus is holding his breath.

James storms in next, “I’ve heard my name, who’s going to tell me what- oh, oh, look who’s here. Having fun, are we? I’ve texted you like, twice, Lupin. And you’re here, lounging. Come be my unpaid labor, now!”

Sirius runs his hand throughout Remus’ hair once before letting him go, and the sensation stays there for hours.

He sticks around too, working on his course work, and it is nice having him there. Small talk between James’ clients, stealing glances while Remus works on his designs, laughing over shared snacks.

They go to G’z for a drink and cheese-toasties when the day is over. Sirius sits in front of James, so Remus slides on the empty spot by his side, the right distance away.

Sirius looks just as breathtaking and foreign as he did months ago, in that same light. He laughs easily as they joke around, tells Remus dirt he has on every Instagram follower gained because of him, debunks the high school myths James has ever told about himself, does it all while keeping his right hand on the seat, between his thigh and Remus.

It is temptation if he has ever seen it. After thinking extensively about it, he puts his hand down too, inches away. Sirius wiggles closer immediately, and Remus breaks the distance, overlapping their middle fingers. He looks down at their touching hands, can’t afford to look at Sirius’ face.

Sirius lifts his finger, lifting his with it. He slides his fingers forward, and Sirius does what’s left for them to tangle together. Remus, dizzy with it, burning hot with it, unable to listen to what James is saying, just white noise in his ears, squeezes tentatively, and Sirius squeezes back, runs his thumb along Remus’ forefinger.

Remus doesn’t look down – he just imagines how it looks like, his own bony, pale fingers tangled with Sirius’ lean, inked ones.

They keep up the foolery for the entirety of their evening, talking sports and school and tattoos and social media with their hands attached. At home, smiling stupidly, Remus stares at his hand, held up in the air, and imagines Sirius’ fingers running down the lines.

-

On Friday he comes into the parlor bearing three coffees. James’s at the counter, and gives him a sad smile when he sees it,

“He’s not in today. Went thrifting with McKinnon. Moody’s going to appreciate it, though”

“Oh. Okay”

Remus knocks on Moody’s studio and is told to keep that sugary shit to himself. He returns to the counter with the coffee in his hand, sighs lightheartedly before taking a sip.

“Hm, Lupin. We’re- actually, we’re spending the weekend at my parents’” James says as if it pains him “we agreed on it beforehand”

“Uh, okay?”

“Yeah, but, like, he is flying back Tuesday morning”

“Oh” Remus says, that leaves them Monday, which is James’ birthday. Of course, he flew in for it, “oh”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. But, you know, Paris is not that far. We talk every day, similar time zone and all, and flying is not that expensive if you book it in advance”

“Yeah, right. It’s-” Remus trails off, because it should be alright, shouldn’t really matter, he got the guy’s phone number less than 24 hours ago, they barely know each other, he is James’ to miss, not his, there’s no reason for him to feel out of breath and out of time right now.

“You can- if you want to talk about him, you can. I won’t run my mouth”

“It’s just- it has never happened to me before” he breathes out, pathetic and raw “I have no idea how to navigate it” he gestures at the spare coffee as evidence.

“No one does. Really”

Remus sighs, “Wow. Good chat. Thanks”

James laughs, “Little shit. But yesterday was good, right? Felt alright”

“Yeah” Remus confirms “Wednesday too, until what went down, more than alright actually, Tuesday too for that matter, feels surreal to just think about it but it’s such a real feeling that there’s no way- God”

James rubs his back, “That’s good. You know, feeling good is good”

“Hard to argue with that” he scoffs.

James laughs, “Yeah. So, you know, make that allowance to yourself. Now let’s get to work, yeah? Need your insight on something”

They start a joint design, then do a joint tattoo, then return to the joint design. It is Remus’ turn with the pen, James’s lying on his folded arm on the counter, when the door rings open.

“We come bearing gifts!”

He instructs his face against smiling too widely, but it’s barely impossible when gifts turn out to be not only for James but for him too. Marlene hands him a dark blue shirt, with sea-blue dragons, not his style at all but gorgeous nevertheless,

“It has hand-picked for you, so you are obliged to like it. Yeah?”

“Hm-hm. I’d like it anyway. Thank you”

He catches Sirius smiling at him out of the corner of his eye, understands that he is wearing a leather jacket and tries to think about something charming to say, and then Marlene is poking his forearm.

“I asked” she laughs, straight teeth and big, all-knowing green eyes, and Remus laughs too, caught red-handed, “if you do walk-ins?”

“Wait, really?”

She laughs and James slaps the back of his head, “God damn it Lupin, do we need to have sessions on learning how to fucking sell?”

“I’m- fuck off, ah, I do, I do, wait a second”

He gets his professional-looking flashes and his doodles and shows Marlene everything. She likes one of his drawings, makes a small suggestion and nods enthusiastically as Remus beats it into shape. James gets the stencil, and the four of them cram into James’ studio.

Marlene wants it in her shoulder, so she sits backwards in her chair, in between Remus’ legs. It’s slightly bigger than Sirius’, but he manages without needing any pauses for hand stretches or nervous giggles. She loves it in the end, and he is quite proud. James says that he won’t be needing any more teaching, and Sirius places his hand on his shoulder and tells him it’s beautiful.

He charges 70 sheepishly, because James tells him to do so, but Marlene agrees that it’s a good deal, a fair price. She and Sirius hang around as they finish their design, putting on a fashion show with their new outfits and doing gymnastics on the couch.

The clock marks 16:17 when James says it’s done. Marlene persuades them to go to the karaoke bar, since 1) Fridays until eight are happy hour and the booze is so cheap it feels free 2) they’ve got to start soon if they intend on make the drive north that night.

It will give Remus an hour and a bit, with therapy at six, it’s so little time it’s actually stupid to go, but he wants to, he very much wants to, and James raises no objections. He actually suggests driving there, so he can drive Remus to his appointment and afterwards he and Sirius can go directly to his parents without having to stop by at home.

He spends the whole walk to James home distracted by how insanely hot Sirius looks in all-black, how his legs look and move in washed down jeans and combat boots, the whole drive distracted by his arm perched out the open window, hand against the top of the car, silky black hair held up by the coolest black sunglasses.

They grab a deck of cards when they get there, put Remus on this insane game they played at high school, that makes no sense whatsoever, with more exceptions than rules, that just gets them yelling at each other and laughing loudly. Sirius is warm next to him, but he has both hands on-deck, and Remus starts feeling itchy with the need to touch or have that laughter for him only, getting frustrated and upset, as if he is wasting the little time he has, losing all the rounds of this insane card game.

He grips his phone with excessive force when he sees that it’s time to leave, but manages a mild tone when he says, “Hm, I should get going”

James checks the time too and gets up too, reaching for his coat, “Yeah, let’s go before the traffic starts accumulating”

“You- you can stay, I’ll just take an Uber or something”

“I don’t mind giving you a ride, I said I would” James says, and Remus doesn’t argue any further, he loves when James drives him there and is there waiting afterwards and will take it whenever he has the chance.

“Are you coming back?” Sirius asks, sliding off his seat for Remus to pass by.

“I don’t know, I’ll text” James replies, does a handshake with Sirius and gives Marlene two kisses while Remus just waves goodbye.

Remus chooses the music for the drive there. James singsongs some of it, but besides that they remain in silence. 

He is not greedy, nor jealous. Those are such nasty things to be, he thinks, plus it's hypocritical to want more time or more attention when he doesn't know what to do with the time and attention he already has on his hands. He is content with scraps and glimpses, has to be, especially when he knows that if he wants something great he has to give something back, and he doesn't have anything worth trading. He doesn't want to be a parasite, sucking all of Sirius' generosity and liveliness and courage out of him because he has been hiding his own for so long, has probably hid it so good he won't get to find it again.

That’s what the majority of his session is about, but he can barely get half of it out.

He meets James in the waiting room, back slumped, playing 2048. Remus waits until he loses, shoulders tense and mind going on overdrive, slams the car door without meaning to.

“Where to? They’re still at the bar, very drunk by the looks of it. We could grab dinner and watch a couple episodes at yours, we’re almost finishing the season”

“Let’s go meet them” Remus says, wants anything but a noisy bar and silver eyes that don’t meet his, but he can’t possibly hide anymore, will disappear if he does.

“Alright” James says, picks the music he wants this time.

They stop at the first red light, Remus shifts in his seat,

“We talked- we talked sexual identity today, at the session”

“Hm”

“About how obsessed I am with hiding mine”

“Okay”

“So, hm, this is me coming out to you”

“Okay”

Remus huffs, digs his fingers on his thigh, “That’s it?”

James turns the music down, frowns a little, “I mean, should I act surprised? This morning we talked about this thing you have going on with a boy”

“But could you tell?”

James shrugs, and Remus insists.

“I mean, you and Sirius kind of crushed on one another the first time you met, right? So there was that, but I didn’t think extensively on it or anything”

“But I never acted, you know”

“How do you mean”

“Like Sirius acts”

He can feel James starting to get fussy, Evans-mad, “That sounds a little mean, Lupin, don’t you think?”

“No. It- it is attractive. The confidence” Remus declares while biting his nails, but James doesn’t say anything “Right?”

“I- I suppose, but it depends. Some people feel attracted to folks who don’t seem particularly confident. And, you know, there’s no such thing as a right exponent of queerness to display. Thus, you know, the ability to speak and ask someone you deem fit their sexual orientation, that’s fucking valid despite how gay you think they look”

“But that’s bullshit, right? People who pass as straight have it easier than people who are true to themselves. Like, what happened to Sirius-”

“God, no, no, no, that’s such a shit thing to say. Sirius does not get in fights because he is true to himself, or whatever, he gets in fights because people are fucking stupid, that’s what”

“I- of course, I know that” Remus stammers, picks on the skin around his fingernails “I wasn’t saying anything that contradicted it. I just meant that he does not hide it, and an outsider can tell, and I’m asking you, an outsider, if I hide it or one can tell”

“I don’t know”

“Potter” Remus pleads, clenches his jaw so he won’t cry, “You’re literally my only friend, the only person I can-”

“Why is that important? I just- fuck that question, honestly. There’s not a true answer to it”

“I’m trying to- to understand the impact that me trying to bury it so hard had”

“And only you can answer that, I mean, obviously, you could have a hundred friends and none of them would be able to tell you how deep you are in the closet and how harmful it is, or has been”

“I just need you to tell me- like, being around me”

“Tell you what? Lupin, you literally had your chance to be first touched by someone you were attracted to stolen from you, how do you expect me to make material judgements on how sexually promiscuous you are?”

Remus sobs, “So what? Sirius got kicked out from home and he still-”

“God, God, are you even listening to yourself? Talking about needing to be out as a means to be fucking punished, as if a response to trauma was an easy route and you dodged some ostracism you deserved, Jesus Christ, what the fuck?”

Remus is crying so hard James has to pullover, but he is not done.

“You feel you’re queerer than what you allow yourself to be, good, come out to someone who doesn’t know it, and we can go to more LGBT+ gigs, learn more about the history, be more vocal at the parlor, you can even hold my friend’s hand above the table and touch him like the breathing body he fucking is. And there will be sharp ends, but getting yourself cut on them can’t be your fucking motive”

He didn’t hide it, it was stolen from him, stolen, stolen. He cries and cries. He doesn’t have to find it in the cutting debris of his mind, he can get it back, look for it outside. He cries for about twenty minutes, throat raw, eyes burning. Stolen, fucking stolen.

“I’m sorry” he croaks out when he’s gotten his breathing under control “You can drive on”

“Do you want to drive around for a bit?” James asks him but Remus shakes his head. James turns left, “Didn’t mean to yell at you. You were talking shit, you really were, but that’s normal. It’s normal to struggle with it. You’re still very sweet, right, you know he’s my best friend and I wouldn’t be driving you to him if you weren’t”

Remus sniffles, nods with his head. He rubs his face trying to sweep away the traces of crying, pretending that he hadn’t just been told that it had been stolen from him.

“Does it look like I’ve been crying?”

“No” James lies as he parks the car. He gets out, places himself in front of Remus and opens his arms.

Remus steps into the embrace, allows his head to be pulled down and squeezes James back. It is nice, feels somewhat good, but it also feels a bit weird. Remus supposes it takes getting used to.

Once inside, his eyes fall immediately on Sirius, leaning on his hand, smile wide and drunk-silly. He would’ve stood back and stared for a bit more, but James incites him forward.

“Designated driver! Lupin!” Marlene greats them enthusiastically, “Shots?”

“Bring them on” Remus smiles, slides in next to Sirius, who follows his every movement with his eyes.

Frowning slightly, he moves his hand towards Remus’ face, “Have you been crying?”

Remus grabs his wrist mid-movement, more a reflex than an intentional action, but tries to make it right by sliding his hand into Sirius’ open palm, “Some sessions get a bit emotional, that’s all. I’m alright”

Sirius closes his fingers over Remus’ knuckles and nods. Remus moves his hand around, getting a good look.

“Those are some nice scribbles”

“Right? And you should see the artist” Sirius whistles, playing along. Remus fixes him with a look that’s supposed to say be-reasonable but is fond all around, and Sirius chuckles, the ink on his neck moving with the movement, purple bruise tender on his cheek, eyes bright and loving, and the sight of all that makes Remus’ throat tighten.

Shots come in good hour: Marlene buys five for her and another five for Remus, and keeps drinks coming in that hallucinatory rhythm, which helps Remus temporarily forget that it was stolen from him.

Sirius acts like it wasn’t, and that helps too. His hand in his, or on his thigh for a couple of feverish minutes, his laughter in his ear, beautiful silver eyes resting on him.

“Do you want to sing a song with me?”

“I’d be surprised if you could stand up” Sirius laughs.

“A simple no would suffice”

“Oh, oh” Sirius laughs harder, turns to him so they’re standing face to face, mere inches from each other “Well alright, Bambi. ‘Course I do”

Remus throws his head back at the pet name. Two times is a charm, isn't it? Bambi is terribly ridiculous and Remus likes it, likes it terribly bad.

“You ought to move, yeah?”

Remus nods and smiles stupidly before straightening his posture, “We’re karaoking, fellow working-people”

James and Marlene give them their blessings, and Remus focuses really hard on not tripping as he stands up and walks over to the stage, Sirius right behind him.

He asks for the song list, hands it to Sirius, “So, what’s it going to be?”

“Is this really happening?” Remus nods solemnly, and Sirius laughs with incredulity “Hm, you can choose”

Remus does a look over, “What about Pussycat Dolls?”

“Are- are we doing this ironically?”

“No, no. Hush Hush is a great song. But I mean, we can pick whatever you want-”

“No, Hush Hush _is_ a great song. Just- ah, fuck it, I’m ready when you are”

They’re opening the night, so there’s no time spent waiting. They ask for it and they get it immediately, the iconic instrumental making Sirius laugh into his hand.

Remus’s not confident enough for the intro, but sets the tone in the first verse, paying very good homage to Nicole Scherzinger’s sugarcoated anger, earning a few appreciative whistles.

He looks at Sirius, perched on his microphone and looking at him in amused awe. He sings the pre-chorus very sensually, mouth brushing against his hand and hips rocking gently, holding Remus’ eyes. They sing the chorus together, mouths breaking into huge drunk grins when it hits. Sirius starts moving his head and making little facial expressions and Remus lets himself go as well, allows the music to move through him.

Sirius claims the second verse, removes the mic from the stand and comes closer, body moving with lush, mouth enunciating each word, hand up in the air setting the rhythm, eyes closed, looking the most striking Remus has ever seen him. It just takes – a little bit of leaning, really, for Remus to sing the pre-chorus into his mic. He keeps his eyes down but can feel Sirius’ on him, and when the chorus starts he looks up and his mouth goes dry because of how alight they are. They both miss the beginning of the chorus, and then pick it up at the same time and sing it into the same mic, much more suave and intimate than what the single version sounds like.

Then, Gloria Gaynor’s _I Will Survive_ hits and Sirius covers his mouth with his hands, “Fuck, I forgot this was a thing” and starts laughing hysterically. Remus does it justice, naturally, aiming at the greatest vocals while Sirius laughed in his shoulder, hand on his waist. He even attempts the insane cry, making Sirius shake with how much he is laughing, and places his hand on the small of his back as he sings that he has got all his love to give and he will survive.

Sirius joins him for the final chorus, singing into the same mic, all pressed up against him. There’s a roaring round of applauses, and Sirius breathes out, “What the hell”

They stumble back to their table, laughing and clutching on each other. James is crying with laughter, and Marlene gives them very sincere-sounding congratulations. Remus has his arm around Sirius’ and his warmth pressed up against him for the rest of the night. Which is short-lived, in fact. They’ve to go before James starts to get sleepy.

They offer to drop both him and Marlene off, and his house is the closest. Pretty soon he is alone in his room, starts sobering up and remembering that it was stolen from him.

He tries to sleep, but can’t. Tries to work, draw a bit, but no luck. Starts an episode but is on his phone the whole time, turns Friends off but gets bored of his phone. He thinks that he should call his father and tell him, which is such a shit idea considering that we will have a shit reaction, something like _fucking city trends, you will get over it soon_ , but now Remus can’t discard it, and he really shouldn’t, since he already cried enough for one day and managed to have quite a fun time still, it would be pure self-sabotage.

He thinks of Sirius, thinks of Sirius a whole lot, remembers that he only has about, what, 12 hours left of Sirius and then dials his father’s number.

“Remus?”

“Hi”

“Oh, hello. Are you alright?”

“Yes, just wanted to chat. How are you?”

“Fine. How are you?”

“Good. Did two tattoos this week. You have to get a phone with room for applications, I’d love for you to see them”

“Hm. But you’re enrolling to school in September, right? I can’t pay that room, plus living costs, forever”

“I- I don’t know. I think I can grow from here and, you know, make a living out of it. James does”

“Remus, we’ve talked about this. You’re very smart, but it alone doesn’t matter much, a degree is-”

“Yeah, I know, I know-”

“Don’t interrupt me. Why would you call me if you plan on-”

“I- I actually called to tell you something”

“What?”

Remus chews on his lip. He should’ve thought better about how he would approach it. How is he supposed to? He should’ve waited, waited until he could say something like, _I’m seeing someone, it’s a man, I’ve got a boyfriend,_ waited years if needed be.

“What?”

“I’m gay”

His father is silent on the other side of the line.

“Hm, hello?”

“Is this a joke?”

“No- no. It’s not”

More silence. Remus is extremely nervous and is about to say something again when his father speaks again,

“Do you think he could tell?”

Remus can’t breathe for a minute. He feels sick.

“That’s- that’s an incredibly hurtful thing to say”

Silence again.

“Are you going to apologize?”

Silence.

“I’m hanging up, then”

“You can’t expect me to-”

Remus hangs up and walks to the bathroom, drops to his knees and throws up violently. It wasn’t stolen from him, _he handed it out._

He flushes the toilet and lays his head on the cold seat. It is a hundred times sadder, but he doesn’t cry. When his body feels numb, he lifts himself up and drags himself to his bed. He feels Sirius’s hands on him, _his_ hands on him, thinks about it obsessively, until he can’t tell them apart.

-

He spends the whole Saturday picking them apart. Revisiting them, dotting down all the differences. It hurts, but he has to do it.

It’s always really hard to define himself. First, he was son, then cellist, then victim (and a stereotype at that, introverted, broken home, soft-spoken and with no one to speak to). And that’s no way to live, of course, being crushed into other people’s definitions, so he stepped away from all of them.

And then he started to slowly disappear, since he can’t possibly define himself for himself, because this is what it is: laying down, feeling miserable, organizing the fucking mess he is over and over again, doing nothing, saying nothing, hiding away.

He always tells himself that if he will get definition back when he feels better, but that’s also very difficult to define. James gave him a sense of it again, but he can’t tell how deep he is in the closet, or how harmful it is, or has been.

Remus is more lonely than most people because he can’t even count on himself. He handed it away.

On Sunday, he cries. It’s easier, it’s better than just staring at the walls, especially because it tires him out and he can sleep.

He is woken up by his phone vibrating. It’s James.

“Hello”

“Hi, mate”

“Is it-” Remus checks the phone calendar to verify that it is, indeed, Monday already “ah, happy birthday, Potter”

“Thank you! Thank you, Lupin! Were you sleeping? Because you’re on speaker and someone’s swooning- oh” James bursts out laughing “no, wait, forget it, no one’s swooning, my mistake”

Remus smiles while he stretches.

“I’m calling you because we’re going to the beach to walk the doggies, and we can pick you up if you want to come along”

“Is it on the way?”

“It fucking isn’t as you are aware, but the invitation still stands”

“Alright” Remus turns on the bed, “How long until you get here?”

“An hour and a bit”

“Okay. See you soon, then”

“See you soon, Remus” it is Sirius who speaks, and it sounds very sweet.

Remus sets an alarm forty minutes from that point and falls asleep again. When it rings, he gets up, takes a shower, dresses his warmest clothes, forces himself to eat something minimally healthy.

Sirius is outside the car, smoking, greats him with a bright smile. Remus appreciates it deeply but can’t quite mirror it.

“Morning. So, this is Nala, this is Kyoto” he introduces Remus to the dogs, and Remus extends his hand to pet them “You can ride shotgun, they tend to get a bit excited”

“Alright” Remus says and slides in next to James, hands him his birthday present.

James thanks him before he opens it, and whoops when he sees the personalized sneakers Remus made for him. Assures him they’re fucking great, Sirius agrees with it, and Remus is cradled by their enthusiastic chatter the entire drive.

He sits on the enormous beach towel, with full control over the speaker, while James and Sirius play this insane catch game that involves three balls and makes them run more than the dogs do.

Remus puts _Seven Swans_ on and stares at them fondly, breathes in the salty air and buries his toes in the sand. On _Size Too Small_ , Sirius starts coming up in his direction and his hands kind of shake with the anticipation.

He gets water and then sits next to Remus, taking long gulps as Remus drinks him in.

“How old are they?”

“Hm” Sirius wipes his mouth with his hand and bites his cheek as he thinks, “It’s the first time I’m meeting Kyoto too, she’s like three or four, but has only been James’ for a year. Nala is a lady, turns ten this summer. I remember her, like, this small”

“Are you the favourite?”

“Oh, no, afraid not. I’m definitely mom’s favourite, though” Sirius smiles, stores the water and lays his head on his folded arms, propped up by his knees.

“How were you, at like, 16?”

Sirius laughs, “rogue and handsome”

Remus hums lazily, stands back on the palms of his hands.

“We would go for a run before school, like every day. James’s insane and I don’t know how I went along, because it would be like six in the fucking morning, but we went and watched the sun rise on the hillside and, you know, if we were to have a serious conversation that would be the time. And then we would go to school, and I’d be really mean to everyone, in a Regina George type of way, terribly rude to my teachers, you know the drill. Didn’t have good grades, barely graduated. I wouldn’t stand a chance if you were there and I wanted to be your friend, you’d find me insufferable”

Remus just smiles quietly, doesn’t want to dwell about 16-year-old Remus being given an opportunity like that, “Keep going”

“So, then there was practice, almost every day. I loved it. I was in cheerleading before – that’s where I know Marlene from”

“I was really impressed by all of that gymnastics at the parlor the other day”

“I know. I’ve got great legs. And I’m very flexible”

“Hm-hm”

“So, yeah. Team’s great, amazing energy and the most respectful environment, surprising as it is, and then we’d go back home, and I mean, the Potters are one of those families, you know? I’m sure you’ve gathered by James’ stories, but like, we’d play a game, or watch a movie together, like on school nights! It was crazy”

“And that’s how you established your spot as Mrs. Potter’s favourite”

“Yup. I’m great at charades”

“Wow. Great legs, plus great at charades? Such a fucking catch”

Sirius laughs, and then shakes his head and sighs, impotent in the face of absolute truth.

In the silence, there’s room for Remus to talk about his routine as 16-year-old, great grades and six hours of cello and permanent terror every day, but he stays quiet, lays down, eyes closed.

Soon enough Sirius lays down too, perches over him and gets his fingers in his hair. His voice is very near and very tender,

“You’re full of split ends. Do you use a 3-in-1 or what?”

“I love your hair color” Remus says softly, fingers running through the silk curtain of Sirius’ hair.

“It’s dyed. Natural henna, that’s why it’s so healthy”

“Was it brown?”

“Yeah. Just a bit darker than yours”

“Hm. Suits you really well. Very Sirius Black”

“Oh, looks like he does know my name, after all”

“Sirius” Remus says quietly, very solemnly.

Sufjan Stevens sings that he’d swim across Lake Michigan, and Sirius draws closer, breathes against Remus’ lips.

Remus breathes against his lips too, and then they’re breathing into each other’s mouths, and it’s there, not hidden, not stolen, not handed out, there, in his mouth, exhaling it back to Sirius.

Sirius’ lips move against his own slowly. They’re heavy and sweet and warm and very real, very alive. Remus’ fingers trail to the back of Sirius’ neck, feel the ink there without making any pressure, and Sirius’ fingers go from his hair to the side of his face, holding carefully.

He can feel it, the happiness of morning runs and movie nights, the pride of scoring goals and staring at yourself directly in the mirror, swallows it all and it’s heavy on his chest but he swallows it all because next morning he won’t have it and the fuller he is the longer emptiness will take.

He doesn’t know if Sirius tastes how sad this weekend was for him, but if he does, he does not take it in, and Remus does not get rid of it. Maybe that’s definition, what stays in your mouth after you’ve been kissed. It’s a lot, it’s not all good, but Remus will take it over being nothing, over having handed it out.

They kiss for three songs, and that was an entire album spent together.

James makes a lot of noise coming closer, but neither of them break apart,

“I’m glad we got that out of the way, boys, but we ought to get going. Lily’s classes end at five”

Remus falls asleep on the car and James wakes him up when they get to his parents’ home. He is invited inside, they tell him there’s cake.

James’ father is taking a nap, so he doesn’t get the pleasure to meet him, but James’ mother is very kind, similar to him in the way she talks and moves. She serves Remus an enormous portion of cake and tells him the recipe step-by-step, says she likes Sirius’ tattoo very much and is thinking about getting one herself. To this James mimics being stabbed in the heart, falls to the floor very dramatically, and she just shrugs and sips her tea, argues that Remus’ may be more her style. Sirius laughs and looks lovely, eyes crinkled and the hands in question holding a mug of tea and it’s insane to remember that they kissed just then. James’ mother holds Sirius very tightly on their way out and says a couple quiet words that make him tilt his head and smile sheepishly.

They’re silent on the drive back, listening to _1999_ from start to finish. Remus asks to be dropped off at home, watches Sirius frown slightly through the rear-view mirror. It’s just a couple hours, he tells himself, hardly any difference, and he really needs to sleep a bit.

He reasons that waking up at eight p.m. will give him enough time to get ready for dinner and pre-drinks at James’, and falls asleep very fast, Sirius’ lips on his his last thought, and a soothing one at that.

Remus wakes up at seven-thirty-eight, before his alarm rings. He dresses up in the shirt Sirius got him and feels highly self-conscious, chest far-too exposed and arms bare, and texts Lyn, asking if she’s home and to come to his room.

She comes in, braced with snacks, and looks surprised to see him up and dressed, “Goodnight, charlatan. Nice shirt”

“Is it? I’m not sure it looks alright”

“It does. Where are- are you going out dancing?”

He gestures for her to give him the sour patch kids and opens them, stuffs three in his mouth, “I am”

“I’ve got an eyeliner this blue. Would you oppose to trying it on? Just the waterline”

Remus shrugs, “My issue with the shirt is that it is already too flashy" 

“I don't think it is, but eyeliner certainly isn't. I'd charge for that. Let me just try, we can wipe it off if you don't fancy it” Lyn promises, pulls him to the bathroom.

It looks good when applied, fairly discreet but quite sexy when you notice, brightening up Remus’ eyes and working with the shirt. The scars on his arms are there, quite visible, but his wrist piece, James’ courtesy from the day he got his job, is there too and looks good as ever.

“It’s alright”

“Yes, you can bet it fucking is. Are you trying to, you know” Lyn waves her arms around in a very bad, very amusing dance move, “catch someone’s eye?”

“Hm-hm” Remus sighs “He’s very hot”

Lyn doesn’t miss a beat, “He’s very lucky tonight, that’s what he is. I love the shirt on you, I really do”

He smiles and she grins back at him, and their whole interaction gives him a confidence boost during the underground ride. When he gets to James’, his tiny living room is jam packed, but he is quick to find Sirius, laying on the couch with his head on Marlene’s lap, her fingers holding a joint to his lips.

Their eyes meet and Remus pictures it, Sirius disentangling himself and coming to meet him at the door, a compliment on his eyes and a kiss and Remus would say something like, _oh, I’d come to you, there was no need,_ and then maybe another kiss.

But there really is no need, so Sirius just tilts his head, and he moves forward through the bodies of people he doesn’t know, jacket buttoned up to his neck. Sirius tells everyone who he is, Remus gets their names back, and then he lifts his legs so Remus can sit on the couch, sprawls them over his lap.

Sirius is, effortlessly, the center of the conversation happening in that corner of the party. High-school star player goes abroad to study in Paris, who wouldn’t want to listen, especially given the additional charisma and niceness. He gives everyone two minutes of attention, grants them a burst of strident, high laughter, and Remus has his legs on his lap and tells himself that that is good enough.

He has the memory of being sick from Friday too present, so he doesn’t drink much. Smokes the rest of the Marlene/Sirius joint, feels quite hungry but nobody else is eating the pizzas that are on the table, so he doesn’t. Doesn’t engage in conversation – he doesn’t know these people – and wonders vaguely if that bothers Sirius. Whenever he laughs, he listens very closely, tries to treasure the sound for posteriority.

During the underground trip, Lily Evans has got his back. Compliments the eyes, compliments Marlene’s piece, smiles drunkenly as Remus compliments her outfit, and then goes on a drunken speech about how hot James looks and all the things she’d do to him in that rusty, filthy underground train if they were on their own. Sirius has his back turned on them and Remus laughs loudly just to be heard and immediately feels idiotic.

Clubbing is, by far, easier. The music is alright, the lighting too, none of that flashing clownery, dim enough so he doesn’t feel like he is being stared at, zero pressure to engage in conversation, just dancing and being entertained by how good Sirius looks.

He is on Lily’s dancing circle when he feels a hand on his shoulder, and then hears his voice in his ear,

“Are you having a good time?”

Remus turns around, gets closer so he can speak in Sirius’ ear too, “I am. Are you having a good time?”

Sirius hums in Remus’ ear, slides his hand to the back of his neck, “You look hot as fuck”

And then he puts Remus’ ear in his mouth, which is very weird at first – he even scoffs – and then it starts feeling really good. He gets it wet with his saliva and then sucks on it with intent, and it’s so sudden and so fucking pleasurable Remus has to steady himself on Sirius’ shoulders. Mouth open and half-lidded eyes, Remus feels his breaths coming shorter and heat waves from his ears to his knees and back up again, and it feels good, really good, just good.

They kiss sloppily – Remus is trembling, Sirius is plenty drunk – and then they dance, hips slotted together. Sirius laughs a lot, and this is the version Remus wants to remember, the one belly-deep, close to his ear.

Dawn comes too soon. They catch an Uber with Lily and James and Sirius holds his hand the entire time. They feast in the cold pizza, Sirius with his legs over Remus’ lap and then sat on it, stealing kisses between bites. When he goes to the bathroom, James asks him,

“Lupin. Do you want to take the bedroom?”

Remus’ mouth sort of loses its ability to chew at that.

“You evidently won’t have to do anything you don’t feel like doing in any way, but if you’d rather stay here chilling with Lily’s corpse, that’s alright, I’ll neutralize the horny menace” James assures him.

Remus shakes his head, swallows down his pizza. He wants to. Sirius touching him always feels wonderful, he wants to.

“Okay, then. He’s probably waiting by now, so, whenever you want”

Remus nods and gets up, laughs awkwardly, nervously, and leaves the room. He gets to James’ bedroom and Sirius is sat on the bed, barefoot, phone in hands.

“Oh, hi. Just setting an alarm, in case we fall asleep”

“Alright. At what time is your flight?”

“Eleven-thirty”

Remus sits down next to him, kisses his cheek, then jaw, then his neck. Sirius wraps his arms around his neck and brings him down, kisses him fervently, turns them around so he’s straddling his lap and undoes his buttons with expertise, kissing his way down his torso,

“I might have pictured this exact image when I chose this shirt for you” he confesses, voice desire dizzy, and clashes their mouths together again.

A cold hand undoes Remus’ fly and gets underneath his underwear, and then Sirius breaks the kiss, asks with a puzzled expression,

“You okay?”

“Yes”

“You kind of, like, froze up”

“Just keep going” Remus says, and he means it, but his voice comes out strained and very annoyed, and he notices how tense his muscles are.

“Do you want me to, though?” Sirius asks, the sun rising on his face, reluctance in all of his features.

“Yes”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t know” Remus' lips tremble, and Sirius scoffs, gets off of his lap and looks at him with incredulity.

It’s their last hours together, Remus admonishes himself, he is so attracted and he trusts him and he wants it, his breathing starts coming out ragged and he thinks that will never forgive himself if he starts crying or panicking now, he kind of expects Sirius to leave, or to get angry at him, because truthfully he lead him on, the whole week led up to this moment and it should be beautiful and Remus is fucking this up, and this is what’s going to stay fresh on both of their memories, his stupidity and utter inability to follow things through.

Sirius won't leave, he has his things in this room and a flight in a couple hours, if anyone's leaving it is Remus, and if he doesn't get to it soon Sirius will have no other choice but to kick him out, disdainfully, and James will look at him with second-hand embarrassment when he is on his way out and when Lily wakes up they will tell her _you won't believe it, he teased and teased and even fell into bed and then chickened out, pathetic, and who the fuck does he think he is, like, have you looked at Sirius,_ and then he will take the underground home and he will look miserable and people going to work or to school will notice him and think about how miserable he looks, with just a bit of luck he even gets harassed because of the make up and the flashy shirt. 

He forces himself to open his eyes and look at Sirius. He's sat on his knees, looking right back at him, eyes squinted, lips pressed together. He will apologize, and Sirius will roll his eyes. He will strip out of his clothes, spread himself open, and Sirius will scoff at him. He will tell him everything, and Sirius will look away, show him the door.

“I would love if we kept on kissing”

Sirius, real Sirius, warm and kind Sirius mutters “Alright”, and lays down by his side, cups Remus' face in his hand and opens his mouth with his own.

Quickly it goes from tender to bruising, passion-hot, positions that change too fast and teeth that clash and hands that grasp carelessly, and Remus worries that this is not quite what Sirius wants, worries that Sirius will leave in a bit, worries that he is worrying instead of enjoying it, wants to go back to the stillness of the beach or the sensuality of the club, wants the teeth on his neck to be there tomorrow and give him another chance to share a bed.

Sirius kisses the spot bellow his Adam’s apple and announces that he will sleep some, that being in the airport will be unbearable if he doesn’t. He holds onto Remus’ inked wrist and closes his eyes, falls asleep facing him.

Remus wants Sirius to stay up, to tell him something that’s sincere, be it what this feels like for him or how does he eat his breakfast in mornings in which he has the time, wants to fill the mere hours they have left with words or kisses that feel right, doesn’t want to stare silently at closed eyelids, no matter how beautiful they are, or at swollen lips that gave back what he had handed out.

But that’s all there is to do. When Sirius' alarm rings he shuts his eyes, and the warm weight on his wrist is gone the next second, alarm stopping immediately. Sirius gets up right away, not a minute wasted looking at Remus, who tries really hard not to cry as he listens to every sound he makes while showering.

He closes his eyes again when he hears footsteps coming into the room, peeks while Sirius rummages for his clothes, naked frame shining golden in the morning sun and reminding Remus of all the things he didn’t have the time, or the guts, to do.

When he is dressed, Sirius crawls to Remus, holds his face in his hands and places two very careful kisses on his cheek. He can’t help two tears from falling, and Sirius wipes them off gently,

“I’ll miss you too” he says quietly, and if Remus opens his eyes it will be the end of him, “But we will see each other again”

Remus nods minutely, doesn’t say anything back, can’t or he will blurt out something stupid, like begging Sirius to stay for two more days and offering to pay for the new ticket. Or asking to tag along. Or making claims on feelings he knows nothing of. 

“Okay. So, I’ll text you when I land, yeah?”

Remus just nods again, and then there are footsteps further and further away, quick chatter in the living room, a sharp laugh that feels misplaced and then a key on the lock, and the door closing with a thud.


	3. Movement III (If the Telephone Rings I’ll Be Saved)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it!!! Thank you for reading and for letting me know what it made you feel <3
> 
> Movement III, Sirius' point of view

Sirius is rubbing his thighs in hope it will bring feeling back to them, while Rocco looks expectantly at him.

They’ve established a kind of a routine: Sirius reads a chapter of Das Kapital, calls Rocco up, he comes over, explains it to him, and they fuck.

They met at the used bookstore nearest to polytechnic, when Sirius decided that he needed a better discourse than _hashtag-fuck-capitalism_ when the kids at the youth shelter turned to him for answers, so he went and got himself some radical theory. He never knows what to tell someone who’s struggling with resource insecurity at an age so tender, especially when things ahead look so gloomy, but hoped it would make him better equipped.

Rocco smiled at him when he saw what he was checking out, said that he had needed some help to get through Marx and gave Sirius his phone number in case he ever though it could be of use. Sirius texted him three days later, before even glancing at the first chapter.

He had to read it before their scheduled meeting and ended up appreciating the hot-guy-translation-for-illiterates a lot. Rocco was motivated by what Sirius deemed ‘the right things’, was very smart without being insufferable about it, and turned out to look beautiful laid on his back.

It works just fine, fine enough to let it be in Sirius’ optic, but also fine enough to hang out with his friends upon invitation. And he knew what was said about cinema kids’ weed, but didn’t thought of it as a force to be reckoned with, and here he is now, too high to feel his face.

He thinks the way to go about this is cuddling, maybe allow Rocco to ramble on about whatever niche documentary he saw recently, but he is sat straight next to him, lubing Sirius’ strap-on up and looking at him as if he’s waiting for him to start functioning, which is getting on his nerves in a way he can’t quite rationalize.

“Qu’a a-t-il?” he grumbles when Rocco shakes his shoulder.

“Tu n’écoutes? Quelqu’um frappe à la porte”

Sirius focuses and yes, in fact, he hears some knocking.

“Ça doit être Beatrice, j’ai son portefeuille”

He drags himself to the door, grabs Beatrice’s wallet on her way and hands it over as soon as he opens the door. He freezes.

He rationalizes that he has two options: lock the door on the inside, kick Rocco out, splash water on his face and be back in five with a good excuse. Lock the door from the outside, laugh maniacally for credibility and drag Remus’ into the Parisian night – surely Rocco would be gone when they got back.

He doesn’t move – he can’t. Aware of the cataclysm that will follow if he doesn’t act quickly, Sirius seems to have lost all control over his feet, and hands, and speech. He is mute as he watches Remus’ nervous smile grow to its maximum, and then turn into a frown, mouth parted and eyebrows furrowing slightly as he stares at Sirius’ blank expression, and then finally a wave of clear horror as his eyes leave Sirius’ and focus above his shoulder.

He exhales deeply, closes the knocking hand on itself and brings it to his face.

“Salut. Devrais-je partir?” the only person whose ability to speak remained intact asks.

“I’m- I’m so sorry” Remus returns to reality to apologize, sounding severely stunned and on the verge of being sick “I thought- didn’t mean to. I’ll be going”

It takes him ages to stuff his hands on his pockets – new jacket, denim, hot as fuck – take a step back and turn on his heels. He has his hair cut short and dyed lighter.

“Do you- do you have somewhere to stay” Sirius’ voice sounds so foreign to himself, and he is sure he flinches when Remus turns to look at him.

He makes some kind of affirming noise, “Yeah, we’re staying at an Airbnb. We’re guests at Les Maux Blues for the weekend”

He just nods, feels his throat tightening at the sight of Remus under the hallway lights, nodding back. He doesn’t find anything to say and Remus exhales in farewell and turns away again.

“Text me when you get there” he says, and it comes out croaky and barely audible. Remus just keeps walking, runs a hand over his face and then turns right and is gone.

He stands there pathetically, and when he retreats back to his apartment, Rocco hands him a glass of water.

“Petit ami?” he asks.

“Non” Sirius shakes his head, “Je n’aurais pas…” he gestures vaguely, with the glass of water in his hands.

“D’accord”

“C’était just un rien inattendu” Sirius explains lamely “Il vit à Londres”

Rocco nods in understanding, “Vous voulez que j’y aille?”

Sirius bites his lip, “Oui, c’est peut-être mieux. Merci”

Rocco swiftly gets dressed, and plants a kiss on Sirius’ cheek before leaving.

He wraps his arms around himself and stays still for a bit, to avoid it all to come crashing down. He counts five things he can see. He’s alright. Four things he can feel, and neither of them sting, nobody hurt him, nobody said mean things or raised their voice. Three things he can hear under the heavy silence, and then he lets go and stays steady.

He made it unscathed – he gets ready for bed and slips into it. His phone lights up with a text from James saying Remus is with him, asking Sirius if he’s alright. He tries to take a deep breathe but it gets stuck. He types out ‘yes’ and he’s out.

-

It’s his first thought when his alarm wakes him up: Remus’ quiet sadness. He’s not even granted with a few seconds of morning oblivion, instead he pictures Remus’ eyes as soon as he opens his own, and his mind, always the escapist, pictures him there, as if he had spent the night. He would be already awake, staring at Sirius with soft eyes, and would approach him really slowly, take his time nosing his neck before kissing him. He would tell him all about his appointments for the day, voice raspy and low, the first words of the day for him only, and then Sirius would give him head, and then they would have coffee on the corner before he had to leave, and he would love the croissants and look warm and content, cheeks rosy and mouth spoilt with rich chocolate, and he would extend the last five minutes a couple times until he was on the brink of being late.

It feels fucking silly when he snaps out of it, as it did when he used to fantasize about something similar during the first weeks after leaving London, it feels so silly he can’t bring himself to believe that it is what would’ve happened if last night had gone differently. He replays it over and over, things about a million ways he could have saved it, even after the initial shock, exhausts his mind to a point where he’s not thinking when he gets up and catches the bus to Les Maux Blues.

He has been there a couple times, he knows where the guests stay and he will figure out what to say when they’re face to face. He’s crossing the threshold when a hand grabs him by the inside of his elbow.

“Ça va?” James tilts his head at him, a mocking smile and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Sirius feels his expression softening involuntarily.

“Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know, working?”

“Kit-kat pause. Was over there” James pushes Sirius so they’re standing in front of each other and gestures to the building corner “saw this awful jacket getting closer and though ‘no, it’s impossible for the two people with the most terrible taste in the whole wide world to live in the same town’ and coordinated my steps to catch you just before you got here. Très James Bond, non?”

“What’s wrong with this jacket?” Sirius asks, sounding terribly petulant.

“You’re pouting”

“I’m not, Jesus James, fuck you”

He laughs sharply, “I would offer you one to chill out, but you stink of it. And you’re awfully skinny. Have you been eating anything?”

“Fuck off”

“See, that’s what I like to see when I insult your jacket. Not getting all in your feelings and-”

“I’m not- I didn’t come here for this, so”

James touches Sirius’ arm again for him to stay still, drops his smile “I know. What- what are you planning on saying to him?”

Sirius shrugs, and James says, almost tentatively “It’s because- well, it was my idea. Him surprising you. I didn’t think- well, it was not pulling hours, and normally you tell me when you’re hooking up with someone”

“I don’t have to” Sirius retorts, tries not to dwell on how much more heartbreaking Remus being talked up to it is.

“You sure don’t”

“It’s not like Remus and I had-”

“I know” James cuts him off “and I know you don’t plan on apologizing. Since you texted me and didn’t say anything back to him. And that’s- that’s alright, but you have got to understand that he is working, and you going in there to do anything other than apologizing will probably upset-”

Sirius starts to feel cornered, the way upsetting James, the rare times he did, always made him feel.

“We didn’t even fuck. He didn’t want to. And he was also quite too friendly while texting, if you-”

“No, don’t go there. It’s not on him. You knew he was into you” James says sternly, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Well, let’s give him a chance to tell me that himself” he makes a move to go inside, but James grabs him and holds him in place, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re not going in there to tell him it is his fault and things would’ve been different if he had let you hit or sent you dick pics or whatever you’re after”

“Whatever I’m after? Whatever you’re implying, you better spell it out” Sirius spits out and tries to free his arm, feels his heartbeat hot in his ears “James. Let go of me or I’ll hit you. I’ll physically remove you from my way”

“Do you think I can’t take it? You’re not going up to Lupin in this fucking state. He has things to do”

Sirius trembles with anger “What the fuck? You’re really doing this to _me_ , over a, over a guy you didn’t even know a year ago?”

James doesn’t say anything. Sirius stops fighting and he lets his arm go. It doesn’t hurt but it burns, hot and shameful like the tears pricking at the back of his eyes.

“Lose my fucking number” he spits out and turns around, walking away from James. He doesn’t call out for him.

Sirius walks to the polytechnic – this little detour already made him late as hell, so who cares. He goes to the cafeteria to destabilize whoever he knows that is trying to study and ends up engaging with Elena and Francis on discussing whether their teacher had been openly sexist and racist regarding Shirin Neshat’s work or if it hadn’t been that bad.

They go to class and he manages to focus – probably his best skill in the whole world, his ability to shove whatever is bothering him down somewhere inside. He almost forgets it until he is hit with a bad trip or needs to deconstruct it for inspiration.

Remus’ sad eyes lose some of its tragedy when they’re disengaged from the fact that Sirius is responsible for them and that he has fucked his chances regarding what may have been a good thing. Their ever-presence as he works turn them into a simple pair of sad eyes, and everyone has those.

He stays after class to help Marie with her project. His need for good company must be palpable, since she suggests they go check out the new exhibition downtown, even though she looks exhausted. Never to refuse undeserved kindness, Sirius agrees, buys the sacred cheap wine on their way there.

The exhibition has one good piece in its entirety. They take artistic pictures of it and with it, and then move their photoshoot to the dirty, plastered with political stickers bathroom.

James texts, giving Sirius the time and asking for the place for dinner that night, the two of them. Sirius doesn’t reply immediately, trying to keep some of his posture, but when Marie says she has got to go because her girl is cooking dinner for them, he drops the pretense – at that moment there’s nothing he wants more than dinner with James – and texts him the address of this delicious Nepalese place.

James is already there when he arrives and pulls him into a bone-crushing hug.

“Wanted to hug you the whole time we were arguing, but refrained to do so because Evans says it’s manipulative”

“I wonder why” Sirius says, but clings back “She’s your ex, it’s- doesn’t look good on you to mention her on the first five seconds”

“Yeah, but we’re-”

“She put an insta story with Taylor’s We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together”

“Did- did she really?” James asks as he steps back and Sirius confirms “I must be blocked from them”

“No”

“Fuck. Has she posted too many thirst traps?”

“I- there’s no such thing as _too many_ -”

“Oh my God, that means like six”

Sirius pats his shoulder, “You can do it too”

“You know what? You’re right. First thing I’m doing when we go in is go to the bathroom and-”

A group of people leaving the restaurant prevents James from finishing what would’ve been, certainly, a beautiful image. Sirius laughs and leads the way in, picking the coziest table, where they can sit next to each other, right under the Mithila painting.

“You did really lose some weight, love” is the first thing James says after he’s sat “Are you eating well?”

Sirius shrugs, “I don’t play sports anymore, I can’t eat how I ate”

James makes a noise of confusion, “You certainly have to eat more than what you’re eating now. Are you- do you want to see someone about it?”

“No. It’s just, I’ve been busy, and get distracted. Like, today, I just didn’t remember to eat. It’s not like I’ve been purposely-”

“That can’t be. Put fucking alarms, I mean, you know how it can spiral. This is- this isn’t news, right? You were aware”

Sirius shrugs again, “Got a couple compliments”

“That’s fucked. You can- we can get in contact with the school’s nutritionist. Ask for a diet plan”

“There’s- there’s no need. I can just eat more”

“Try to, please? And if it doesn’t come easy you will ask for help”

Sirius forces a displeased face and nods.

“Promise me”

“I promise you” he says, and James raises his pinky to seal it. Sirius smiles, “You’re a child”

“Of course. Now, tell me everything that’s good in the menu. We will order it all”

They do order a shitload of food. Sirius rests his head on James’ shoulder, and when the drinks come, he sighs,

“This is weird because Remus is supposed to be here”

James takes an extraordinarily long sip of his beer,

“Weird? Are you uncomfortable?”

“Come on. We are both aware that he is alone in a fucking rented Airbnb right now-”

“He deals fine with being on his own. And, if you must know, I have his blessing for this dinner. He doesn’t know we had quality time this morning and insisted I went out with you because he claims I miss you a lot. Unfounded claims, but he’s a tough bone to chew in matters like this”

Sirius crosses his arm, tries not to pout, “But now it is always going to be like this. Doing acrobatics to avoid crossing each other’s paths, now that he planted himself right in our friend group”

James laughs, “You fucking wish”

“No, I mean, when I’m back in London-”

“You’re coming back!?”

“Hm, maybe. More inclined to yes”

“That’s great fucking news, mate” James grins at him, “And acrobatics will hardly be necessary. Like, he is an alright bloke, more than alright, and we’re mates, sure, but it’s not like you and me when you lived at mine’s, attached at the hip. The whole friend group also reconfigured itself, we’re naturally not as tight. You’ll be able to navigate the city with no constraints. If that’s what you want”

“You’re- you two are not like we were, right? Not as close” Sirius asks, sounds really small.

Thankfully, James doesn’t make fun of him, “No. You’re the love of my life, Sirius. My brother. You- do you really worry about that?”

Sirius shrugs. He does, but thinking back on it, he finds that he wasn’t jealous of Remus, probably because he was expecting to get something out of his proximity with James. He feels pathetic.

“You know today wasn’t a picking anyone over anyone. You must know. Last night was embarrassing, but this morning it would’ve been hurtful”

“You’re right”

“You- you have absolutely no way of knowing this, but that week you’ve spent over had a huge impact on Remus. It was fucking noticeable, how much more open and lighter he was after it. And it may not be the beginning of a torrid love story or my career as a cupid, but it was a good thing anyway”

Sirius can’t take it anymore, “Yes, I get it, being an asshole today would-”

“No- that’s not what I’m saying. I’m over that. I’m saying that that’s what you do to people. What you did to me and to my parents. You brought us so much light, Sirius. And you’re never past the point of doing that. Even with Remus”

“Guess you’re not over that” he tries to tease, but his voice comes out strained with emotion.

“Good point – so, subject sealed. New pieces?”

“None” he knows better than to ask the same. Not crossing paths may be possible, but Remus is all over James’ body, all over the person he is now. Probably he is even worse off at that “How’s McKinnon?”

“Drunk at midday”

“Fuck. Is she working-”

“Regulus tried to set an appointment”

“What?”

“Like, I didn’t want to text you-”

The waiter comes with the food and Sirius tries to decide how does that make him feel.

“What did you do?”

“Told him to fuck off. But like, he was after a flash Person-We-Aren’t-Mentioning is dying to do. So, you know. Would be good business for me if you sorted that out”

“As if. He can choke”

“Noted. Alright, I’ve got to ask. Guy from yesterday. Anything legit?”

“No. How’s your mom?”

“Stagnant. Which-”

“Not terrible”

“Yup. Best dish for me to the start with?”

“Oh,the bhatmaas. Fucking delicious”

Sirius eats until he has to unbutton his jeans.

**a few months later…**

Sirius is working, sprawled over Marlene’s rug, the most comfortable surface in her home, which has been almost his for the past two weeks. He has been half-looking into flats, half trying to persuade her into letting him pay half the rent. His phone, charging next to her, rings.

“It’s Potter” she announces, and he gestures for her to throw it at him.

He catches it smoothly and picks it up, “What’s up?”

“Hi- hello”

Sirius sits and covers the speaker, mouthing at Marlene ‘It’s Remus’. She makes a mocking expression of amazement, and then gestures impatiently for him to say something.

“Are you there?”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey. Is everything alright?” Sirius spreads his hand on the rug.

“Hum, are you- are you near James’ place? Something happened and he wants to-”

Sirius is already lifting himself up, “Is he alright? Can’t he come to the phone?”

“What’s going on?” Marlene straightens up too.

“No, no, he’s fine. He can, he just asked me to, and I wasn’t, I mean, I wasn’t going to tell him like, do it yourself”

“I-alright, yeah” Sirius breaths out a small laugh, and looks at a terribly confused Marlene “I’m at Marlene’s, I’m there in fifteen”

“Okay. Okay, good. I’ll them him”

“Right. See you soon, Remus. It was- was nice to hear you”

It’s silence for a second and he checks to see if they’re still on call.

“Yeah” Remus says, and leaves it at that for another second. Sirius hangs up and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“What did he say?” Marlene asks.

“Yeah”

“Not- what? To your nice to hear you?”

Sirius nods, sliding his shoes in.

Marlene barks out a laugh, “Fuck, priceless, but I meant about Potter”

“Some kind of an emergency, I don’t know. I’ll text you when I do”

“It’s drug charges” she says with certainty and Sirius levels her with an exasperated look, “Or they’re keen on a threesome”

Marlene knows the basics: Remus and Sirius had hooked up in London, which was a good memory, and then he had traveled to Paris and caught Sirius with another fling, which was not. She never raised questions about the inevitability of their reencounter.

Sirius flips her off, with his hands full of his things, “Are you staying in? I won’t take the keys if you are”

“I am. Do come back!” she calls as he leaves the room “don’t embarrass yourself! Remember he is tall and funny on Twitter!”

“Fuck off!” he screams back, before closing the front door behind him.

He is there in seventeen. He gets out of his motorbike, finds his heart is almost beating out of his chest, rings the doorbell and tries to even his breath, a feat achieved and then lost with the climbing three flights of stairs. He rehearses what he is going to say first thing and decides on a laid-back “It better be good”.

He is panting when the door opens and is met with Remus Lupin on an enormous blue jumper, hair platinum blonde, barefoot and eyes red, cheeks stained with tears.

“Are you alright?” Sirius sounds terribly worried, and makes a move to get closer, which Remus circumvents gracefully, allowing him in.

“It’s not- I’m not even- James’ in the living room”

Sirius takes it like a man and makes a bee line to the living room, kneeling next to a static James. On the TV, an episode of Friends is on pause.

“Mate” he asks, and James hands him his phone.

For a second Sirius feels scared.

He looks down, ripping the band-aid off. It’s a string of texts: grey bubble says ‘I need to tell you something’, blue bubble says ‘Alright’, grey bubble sends a picture of a positive pregnancy test, blue bubble says ‘Okay’ (which Sirius thinks is terrible) and then ‘Are you keeping it?’, to which grey bubble replies ‘I think so’, and blue bubble says ‘Lily I’ll support whatever you decide to do’.

Sirius looks up to a frozen-up James and a crying Remus. He inhales deeply, and asks “Is this not great news?”

James turns his head slowly, “I don’t know. You think so?”

Sirius nods tentatively, “You’re financially stable. In love with each other. I think you could do this”

James runs a hand through his hair, “We had the most horrific argument a week or so ago. That’s no way to-”

“Was it important? Compared to like- your biggest fucking fantasy since you were sixteen?”

James sits on it for a bit. All they can hear is Remus irregular breathing.

“I’m not- Like, I have no idea how-”

“You wouldn’t be alone. I mean, give it a minute to count how many people would love and care for this baby”

James lets himself fall on Sirius, who wraps his arms around him. He finally allows himself to look at Remus, who is still crying and diverts his eyes once their gazes meet.

“Thanks” James mutters, and says lightly “You’re right. Remus here has been fucking useless, bawling like a baby-”

Remus sobs indignantly and they both start laughing, and then James’ laughter goes fucking manic and Sirius and Remus exchange a somewhat tender look.

“I think you should go to her” Sirius tells James once he catches his breath.

“Now?”

“Of course. Do you need a ride?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Just going to” he trails off and gestures vaguely “grab my shoes”

He stops on his way to hug Remus, and Sirius tries to do the math, can you stay in someone’s home once they leave, can you hug someone just for crying, Remus wipes his tears and plants a kiss on James’ cheek and it is just nauseating to see, he could do something like fall down the stairs or get run over by a car, guaranteeing company from the most decent and available person around-

“Do you have somewhere to be?” Remus gently pulls him out of his thoughts “We had just made tea before Evans texted”

“No, I don’t. Tea sounds lovely”

Remus smiles at him, kind and open, and he is still processing it when James is out the door. It’s such a good omen, he can’t possibly let it go south, must not fuck it up. He lifts himself up and goes to the kitchen, meeting Remus, with a mug in each hand, halfway.

“I- wherever you prefer”

“Ah, where you were headed” Sirius answers as he makes room “couch any day”

He leads the way, makes sure he is walking gracefully, that his hair is untucked when he sits down and that his smile remains polite when Remus sits close, talking-distance.

“So, you’re in London” Remus points out, sitting on his feet and adjusting the pillows behind him. He looks painfully gorgeous, cheeks shining and pink lips raw.

“Yes, sir” Sirius smiles to balance it out, “got here at the end of October”

Remus nods, “Yeah, I asked James and he said like, _he was born here_ ”

Sirius lets out a chuckle, that turns into a real laugh when it sinks in, a panicked Remus asking an absentminded James for long how Sirius has been in town and being granted that shit of an answer. Remus joins him.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I thought about reaching out” he lies – he imagined very dramatic scenarios where they would be forced to have a passive-aggressive argument / make-out, he did not think of reaching out – “but wasn’t sure if you wanted me to. Would you have wanted to- to hang out?”

Remus is still laughing as tells him “Of course. How long are you staying?”

Sirius did not imagine a polite conversation and a crushing urge to hold his hand, “Indefinitely, actually. I have got to travel a bit, have a job in Austria next week, but I’m currently looking for flats”

“Ah, nice. Done with school?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t actually, like, a degree. But met a lot of, you know, _people_ and have a couple of bookings already”

“That’s amazing” Remus runs his hand through his hair and Sirius pictures himself doing it, gets a bit lost in a couple ways he could go about it.

“I’m just” he says as he diverts his eyes and occupies his hands with his phone “texting Marls. Telling her everything’s okay”

“Sure. Tell her to check her Twitter DM’s”

“Hm?”

“I have a friend who slid in. Like, three days ago. So, if you could just give it a little push”

“Friend from where?”

Sirius is picking up the most accurate hair color on the pregnant-girl emoji when he realizes how rude it was. He glances up at Remus and he looks like he felt it like a jab.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to sound like it did”

Remus gives him a self-deprecating smile, “Not very charming, but I’m taking a pottery class. Helps with hand tics and, hell, it’s quite fun. That’s how I met a friend that didn’t go to your high school”

Sirius raises an amused eyebrow, “Their name?”

“Dorcas”

“Did they ever meet McKinnon?”

“No, not yet. Just social media lurking. That’s why you’re going to land them a date”

“That can be arranged. I’m sure pottery gives them a couple points” he smiles, types it out and shows it to Remus for approval.

“Evans pregnant-girl-emoji” he reads out “You’re so fucking chill about it”

“I guess that in my head this was always going to happen” he shrugs “you know it will be, like, the most incredible thing to witness”

“Yeah, I do, I guess. I wasn’t- I cried out of overwhelm, not desperation or anything the like”

“You-” Sirius starts, and he can pinpoint the sentiment, that almighty appreciation when someone cares about the things you do like you do, maybe even better than you do, more gently, and if only he could say it without words.

“What?”

Sirius shrugs and takes a long sip. They drink their tea in silence, and Sirius only realizes he is talking when he hears himself.

“I’m sorry about Paris”

Remus breaks eye contact and makes himself smaller, shoulders bent and toes shrinking, “Yeah, but let’s not” he asks, and then gestures something similar to brushing aside.

“But I fucked it up”

“There has hardly an _it_ to fuck up”

“I- Remus, there was”

“Not for you” he says but not harshly, not venomous, not angry nor sad. Just small and clear, “We just had different ideas. There’s nothing to apologize for. You didn’t break any promise, you were not cruel to me”

Well, but it’s not like he hasn’t been properly kind either, but still Remus treats him so softly, and he just wants to give him something better to work with, to take care of, and (hopefully) to kiss until numb.

“Alright, then. I won’t apologize. But I’ll ask for a chance to do better”

Remus’ semblance remains closed, reluctant. He asks softly, “How do you mean”

Sirius inhales, feels a bit dizzy. He tells himself that people do this all the time – ask people they fancy out, start relationships, all the things within that spectrum – James is at this exact moment sorting things out with his _pregnant girlfriend_. What he is feeling right now is normal. People get over it – they throw themselves into the abysm and they live to tell the story.

“Spend time with me” he manages to say quite steadily “without needing James as a middleman, and without having to pretend that we don’t have chemistry like crazy. And we’ll see where that leads”

Remus looks at him, eyes wide, searching, and Sirius wants him to find whatever he is seeking, so he keeps his eyes open and truthful.

When Remus decides he is done, he rests his forehead on his mug. “You have to understand how uncanny this is. I mean, an hour ago I didn’t even know you were in London, and now you are _here_ , looking like _that_ , asking _me_ out”

Sirius bites down a smile, “You don’t have to answer me now. I wouldn’t want to prey on the big emotions you’re riding at the moment”

Remus snorts, still looking down. Sirius stares unabashedly for a moment, prominent knuckles and sharp cheekbones and soft hair. He’s doing what he can.

“Do you” Sirius gestures at the TV “want to keep watching?”

Remus takes a bit to understand, blinking through realization, but nods when he does, “Yeah, actually. We were about halfway through though-”

“I’ll ask for your help if I struggle to understand such a complex plot”

Remus shoves him and then lets his hand fall next to Sirius’ thigh, not quite touching but close enough to be distracting as hell.

Sirius feels each of the remaining 13 minutes individually, head reclined back as he watches Remus’ ear piercing and the tiny strand of hair that curls around it and forces a chuckle in one out of each three laugh tracks.

When it ends – finally – Remus looks back at him. He seems slightly surprised he’s still there, and then his eyes sort of go soft around the corners and he gives him this really fond look over, so blatant it feels almost outrageous, even though he didn’t even touch him. Sirius presses his lips together.

He folds his arm to lean on his open hand, “I’m such a Rachel sometimes, aren’t I?”

It takes a couple seconds to get Remus to register what he just said. He makes the funniest expression of amused confusion, and then laughs, eyes crinkled and shoulders shaking.

Sirius smiles at him. He guesses he could get used to sit-coms.

**a few months later…**

Sirius can’t help but run to his doorway, and Remus peeks out when he is quite close, catching him mid embarrassing run and barking out a laugh. He tackles him when he can get his hands on, and then wraps them around his waist.

“Is it ridiculous how much I’ve missed you? It has been like, what, five days? I thought I would die”

“It’s actually a relief to hear you say that, considering how ridiculous I was sure I was being. Slept like shit”

They laugh against each other and then Sirius kisses him, keeps his thumb on Remus’ chin so he can feel their mouths moving together, cold and slow.

“Come on, let’s get you out of those clothes and into warmer ones”

“Uhm, well” Remus murmurs, and leans to the side for Sirius to see what’s behind him.

“Wow” he lets out and laughs, Remus smiles at him, “It’s actually huge, how did I even miss it? Well, let’s get it upstairs, shall we?”

“Yes”

Sirius insists on helping Remus carry his violoncello, and they do it as if it’s a couch, even though that makes it ten times more impractical.

“Are you going to” Sirius asks when they get to his flat, mimics playing a violin “right now?”

Remus levels him with a look as if he had made the most absurd question possible, and crosses the space between them, holding Sirius up against the wall and kissing again, less cold and less slow.

“Hm. Solid choice”

“What time did you agree with Harry and the appendices?”

“Eight-ish. Regulus confirmed he’s coming”

Remus nods and kisses him again. Sirius runs his hands through his hair, dyed light pink right now, and pulls it slightly, getting free access to Remus throat. Remus gets his thumb under Sirius’ jumper, and the hooks his index around his beltloop, dragging him to the couch.

Sirius sits down and lifts his leg for Remus to untie his boot. He balances his feet on his hip and pulls on the shoelaces, hands quick, eyebrows slightly furrowed with impatience and hair ruffled from Sirius’ hands, neck red from Sirius’ mouth.

“You’re terribly hot, you know that?”

Remus laughs and rolls his eyes as he drops Sirius’ leg and gets the other one. Sirius’ teases him with his socked toe, going up and down his thigh and laughing at how much more impatient with his shoelaces it makes him.

He throws the boot over his back when he’s done, enticing more laughter from both of them, and sits on top of Sirius, deepening the kiss. Sirius settles his hands on the small of his back, pulling him closer.

He’s deeply relaxed, after days of dizzying yearning and never knowing where to put his hands, and deeply aroused when Remus slides off him and gets down on his knees, between his legs.

“Yeah?” he asks, fingers on the buttons of his jeans.

“Hm-hm”

His clothes are quickly discarded, and Remus does not tease. He has this art dotted down to perfection, gets Sirius there twice, then lays his head on his shaking thigh and looks up at him.

Sirius thinks he is even more infatuated than what he was last week, which is crazy since last week he was the most smitten he had ever been in his whole life. He knew it, theoretically, the ever-expansive nature of love, had read words and heard songs and watched movies and looked at art that had warned him about it, that one day his time would come, that he would fall for someone who would take the time to learn about his favourite things and show him theirs and then he would keep falling because they’d get to discover new favourites together, and his hands would only shake harder with anticipation when they were about to meet and his heart would beat more frantically and his laugh would be louder, and louder, and louder.

He gestures Remus up again and they kiss lazily.

All warnings had been kind of underwhelming. There’s no way to explain to someone how it just grows and grows.

Remus breaks the kiss and they just smile dazedly at each other. Sirius runs a hand through his hair,

“I got you something to give Regulus”

“I got something myself” Remus says through his smile, settles his arms around Sirius’ neck.

“What? You didn’t have to”

Remus laughs, eyes wide.

“What did you get him?”

“A set of rings”

“Can I see them?”

Remus tils his head, eyes playfully squinted, “What did you get him?”

“A board game” Sirius mutters. He had decided against going expensive as it could be labeled trying too hard, but regretted it as soon as he bought it, thought Regulus could find it nonsense “It’s fun, no?”

“I think so. Now, what did you get for me to give him?”

Sirius grimaces and Remus laughs, “Come on”

“A candle”

Remus takes no offense, just laughs harder, “Fucking foul play. Do you want to give him a joint present?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, if you want to. But we keep the candle”

“Deal. Deal, deal, deal” he punctuates each deal with a kiss around Remus’ laughter “Go get the rings then. The game is at the bottom of my bag. Christmas wrapping in the kitchen. And can you bring me a pair of sweatpants?”

“Anything else?”

“My legs don’t work right now, Bambi”

Remus chuckles in his mouth, and signs the impeccable wrapping with ‘To Reg, From Sirius and Remus’, and makes him tea and masters the TikTok he shows him with ease.

“Again” Sirius demands as he watches the recording, and the doorbell rings.

“No luck”

“Fucking eight-sharp?”

“What were you expecting from little aristocrat?” Remus jokes as he moves to the door, but Sirius holds him in place.

“Just one more”

Remus peaks Sirius’ phone, slides his arm over his shoulders, “You look good”

“You look better”

“Ah, and we can’t have that, can we?”

“Just one more, I swear”

They go for it, and the doorbell rings twice during the duration of their attempt. Sirius would like to keep it going on indefinitely, making TikToks with Remus all night, instead of having to deal with his brother, for whom he didn’t know what to get for Christmas after years of radio silence and above everything, having to do it in front of James.

“What should I caption it? Something smart”

“This is what I feel like doing after getting eaten out” Remus suggests.

Sirius snorts “Bet”, and the doorbell rings again. He groans.

Remus holds him by the waist, tugs him closer and tenderly kisses his cheek, “I love you”

Sirius smiles, “Yeah, yeah, you only say that because I’m about to go viral. Go ahead, let the Little Prince in”

He posts it and then gets to the hallway to see Regulus letting go of Remus. He looks torn between the awkwardness of hugging your brother’s boyfriend and not hugging your brother versus the awkwardness of hugging someone you don’t know how to touch, so Sirius makes that choice for him and steps forward with his arms open.

Regulus takes the invitation and wraps his arms around his middle. Sirius places his hand on his shoulder and gently slides it to the other one, holding him close. He bows his head and breathes in.

How old were they when they last did this? Seven-nine, eight-ten, falling over each other as they played, no intention behind it. Should be foreign, but Regulus still smells like their childhood home, freshly baked lemon cake and old books and autumn leaves. Remus brushes past them, and they take the moment they’re given to hold on to each other a bit more.

It is Sirius who breaks apart, “Merry Christmas, Regulus”

Regulus smiles, “Merry Christmas. Did you have a good one?”

He doesn’t know if Regulus resents James – he wants to ask, he wants to know if Regulus had expected him to starve and change schools, because he sure acted like it when they crossed each other’s paths, or when he and James exchanged glares and not so kind words. Remus told him to build new things, but he just wants to dig.

“Yeah, it was alright. Spent it with James and his family, Remus went home. You?”

“It was good. Father gave me a yacht”

Sirius knows Regulus doesn’t navigate real life like that, he possibly can’t, it had to be on purpose. They should’ve just given him the fucking candle as a joint present.

“That’s cool. Did you tell them we have been, like, catching up?”

Regulus shrugs, as if it is a silly question.

“Right” Sirius nods and turns to the kitchen, “just in case they’d asked, or something”

“They don’t”

“Right” he exhales and marches on, thinks about staging a fight with Remus or an indisposition that would make him leave.

He was the one who asked for Regulus to come, thought that if he re-introduced him to James and Lily and had him meet Harry he would feel more natural about this, instead of feeling like he needed Remus as a bridge to Regulus.

But he does, he so does. Remus doesn’t comment on his frown and puts garlic bread on the table for two and gestures for them to sit. He stands behind Sirius, hand on the nape of his neck, gently playing with his hair, and he stirs Regulus into conversation about normal things like Med School and the girl he has been seeing and traffic at rush hour, because he’s just a charm and Regulus doesn’t make him feel like he’s small and sorted out all wrong.

Remus has to prop Sirius up – _if that deadly motorbike is good for something is for getting me to work in fifteen, right?,_ or _Sirius just did this gorgeous shoot a couple weeks ago, this fashion gig, turned out incredible, do you have shots can you show?_ – for him to engage.

Regulus’ smile is just like their mother’s when he sees the photos, but his words are kinder, and Sirius treasures kind words. He tells Regulus the extent to which the model was an enormous diva, gets Remus to pretend he’s him as he impersonates her and makes them both shake with mirth.

That’s how James finds them, goes for a casual handshake with Regulus and asks him _How’s it going mate?_ before getting himself a beer. Remus has Harry in his arms when he crosses the threshold, is holding his hand and making cooing noises, the way it always makes Sirius go weak at his knees.

“Oh, I forgot to brief you beforehand, but we have a very special guest today, Harry. Yes, we do. Meet Regulus. That’s Sirius’ brother. Regulus, meet Harry, Sirius’ godson”

“It’s a pleasure, little man”

“Yeah, it is. We’re all so lucky to have your company tonight, Harry. I hope you were not too busy. Thank you for your time” Remus holds Harry’s hand to his face and then turns to Sirius, grinning madly, “Come on, let’s do The Thing”

He holds his hand out and Sirius follows him to the living room, looks back at James to make sure they’re all going. He sits on Remus’ lap, hips close and shoulders reclined, and they position Harry between them, his back on Remus’ chest and his legs on Sirius’.

Harry squirms, eyes wide and tilting his head back to look at Remus, who’s laughing like this is the first time.

“Stop doing that to my son!” Lily appears and has her mother-hen-voice on, “James!”

“This is literally the only thing keeping Remus’ serotonin levels up” James argues, gestures at him to prove his point, “I’m not that cruel”

“Look at him! He looks so confused! Every time!” Remus laughs loudly.

“Just stop! He can get sick!”

“Can someone take a picture?” Remus asks.

“We have hours of footage of this shit, Lupin, oh my God. Alright, give him to me”

“No, no, I’m sorry. I’ll behave” Remus promises as he gets Harry in a normal position. Sirius slides off him, snuggles to his side.

“You don’t mind it, do you?” Remus asks Harry, gently caressing his cheek “You know I’m not making fun of you. You’re just hilarious”

Harry smiles widely and puts a hand on Remus’ face. Remus makes a silly expression, tongue out and his lips vibrating around it in a ‘brrr’ sound, and Harry chuckles earnestly. Sirius feels the unrest settling down.

They refuse to give him up until dinner, which consists of Potter’s Christmas dinner reheated. It goes well: Regulus is polite at all times, which is an excess but far from the worst-case scenario, Lily asks him a lot of questions, James treats him in a very client condition, relaxed but reserved, Remus is sweet and funny and makes everyone Sirius’s supposed to love work together.

Harry takes a turn in everyone’s lap, even Regulus for a couple minutes, before falling asleep, and Sirius and Remus even manage to do The Thing twice more. Over wine, water for Lily, they talk football, politics, work ethics, contemporary art, and over gin they talk rubbish.

They exchange presents: Regulus loves his, gives Sirius a funky desk lamp and Remus a watercolor set. James and Lily give them a portable heater. Sirius gets Lily a gorgeous bag, a pack of gigantic gummy bears for James and a silver chain for Harry. Remus gives James, Lily and Harry adorable matching jumpers, and has a package that includes a book, funky purple trousers and handmade earrings for Sirius.

“I got new trousers because none of my previous ones fit anymore” Sirius announces and James cheers.

“You look so hot now!”

“So healthy!” Lily backs him up.

He bows his head solemnly and gets the small package he has for Remus, “Guess where I have a shoot in three months”

It’s a plane ticket to Zagreb. Remus, sat on the couch, opens his mouth in awe, mutters “Fuck, we should’ve agreed on a price range” and laughs to himself.

“But you’re not done, are you?” James asks and Sirius glares at him, means to turn to Remus to establish that it doesn’t matter, plus going to Croatia with Remus is more a present from Sirius to himself more than anything else and the agency covers all the other expenses, but he speaks first.

“Not now” Remus says, sheepishly, twisting his fingers. Sirius raises his eyebrows in curiosity, and Remus gestures for him to join him on the couch.

“When they leave, alright?” Remus asks in his ear, as they maneuver themselves so Sirius can lay down on his chest “And thank you. It was a brilliant gift. You are”

Sirius smiles and, cradled by sweet wine and sweet hands scratching his head, he sleeps through some of the conversation. At some point he feels Remus move, and he groggily protests.

“Sorry, guys, don’t think I can move. I’m sure you can sort yourselves out”

“Thanks” Sirius huffs and Remus laughs tenderly. Sirius feels a hand patting his head in farewell, and he’s asleep again before everyone’s out the door.

When he wakes up, under four blankets, he can hear Remus playing his cello in his room. Sirius lounges and stretches lazily, and the cello starts and stops, and starts again, and stops and starts.

Sirius hangs the wet clothes and brings the ironed ones to his room. Remus stops when he gets there, looks nervous and alarmed.

“Don’t mind me”

“No, I- not you. Just- this is just fucking weird. I thought it could come to me naturally, maybe it’d be easier here, but” he trails off “Can’t seem to get it right”

Sirius hums as he sorts out the clothing, “Practice makes perfect, and what not. You can leave it here, do like half an hour a day, huh? Sounds good?”

Remus nods, looks unconvinced and uncomfortable. Sirius holds him by the waist and lets his weight fall backwards, making Remus sustain him.

“What’s my secret gift?”

Remus looks even more unconvinced and uncomfortable, “It’s not- I’m not sure you’ll like it. It’s okay if you don’t, just, just give me an honest opinion”

“I always do”

Remus rolls his eyes and pulls Sirius upright, letting go of him and grabbing his working tablet. His fingers dance on the screen and then he hands it to Sirius.

Staring back at him, it’s a flash tattoo of Canis Major, in oranges and purples. Sirius is speechless, can only manage to clutch his chest.

“You like it” Remus says tentatively.

“I- of course. Bambi, come on. You know this is terribly endearing”

“You think so? It’s not a bit too much?”

Sirius laughs, shrugs, “Like, it is significant as fuck. But in the best way. Very sweet, very flattering”

Remus nods, a bit nervous still, “Nice. I thought- well, you’ve got a lot of _me_ on your skin, and I like it, a lot, and I wanted something of you. But, you know, if you change your mind, I could do anything else. I know this is basically your name, if you preferred something more discreet-”

“I adore it. Where?”

Remus touches his shoulder blade. Sirius laughs almost hysterically, places his hand over Remus’, meets him for a kiss.

He tries to convey the immense gratitude and love he feels through his lips and his fingertips, how he was never treasured this way, how finding and staring at Sirius-the-star always gave him an inexplicable sensation of peace and wellbeing, so significant that it made choosing his name a very easy task, and how Remus does the same, and how utterly gorgeous it will be, to be able to see it on him.

Remus is trying to convey things similar things of his own, so they naturally end up on Sirius’ bed, legs tangled and chests pressed together.

The default setting is just getting Sirius off. He can’t know when it feels alright for Remus, so they agreed Remus would say so, when it did. Sirius is not expecting it tonight, he can't imagine the stress of picking up cello again, but eagerly complies when Remus simply tells him _I want you to._

He traces his favourite curves and folds and dips with his tongue, slowly going down. Sirius is not sure if Remus is objectively the most gorgeous person in the world, fair skin and lean muscles and the prettiest tattoo he has ever seen, or it that’s just mushy feelings talking, but the truth is that he never got this wet just by touching someone. The salty sweetness of Remus’ skin is enticing, the planes of his body electrifying, and the way he arches his back and breathes through his mouth makes Sirius dizzy.

That night he is hardly responding though, just trembling slightly. Sirius notices but keeps going easy, until he’s sucking on the softness of his inner thigh and looks up to see Remus’ mouth moving in the shape of words, in a dialogue happening somewhere else.

He steals a couple more selfish kisses from the warm skin, and then shakes Remus into presence. He blinks, startled, and then looks down at Sirius, eyes forming a silent apology as he lets out a heavy breath.

“We can pick it up from here tomorrow morning?” Sirius suggests and Remus nods, and turns on his side.

It is a bit tricky to know what to do when this happens. Holding and trying to comfort Remus leads to arguments. Once he had suggested he tried tantric sex or ayahuasca to solve the trauma and Remus left and rode his bicycle home even though it was raining. Offering distractions – small talk, silly jokes, a movie, food – upsets him even further. Leaving the room is weird, even if Sirius’s just going to finish in the bathroom. Playing on his phone or working on his current project or reading feels rude. 

He tidies the clothes spread on the floor, gets them both warm ones – dresses his, leaves Remus’ on the chair. He lays beside him, covers them both with the duvet, careful to not be too careful, and looks at Remus’ bare (for now) shoulders, gently rising and falling, until he falls asleep.

-

Sirius stirs in the middle of the night and searches for Remus, who gets cold very easily, opening his eyes to see that he is not there. He runs his hand over his side of the mattress, only to find it cold, and blinks himself awake, getting up and following the dim light that shines from the living room.

When he gets there, he sees Remus curled up on himself, face red from crying. He sits next to him and puts the blanket he is not using over his own shoulders.

“Didn’t mean to wake you up” Remus says when Sirius is basically sleeping again, sat upright.

“You didn’t” he mumbles, “You should’ve, though. You don’t have to leave the room, you know”

Remus wipes his nose, “I wanted to practice a song for you. And I couldn’t”

“You already out did me this Christmas. Aim for the next one”

“It feels like that’s all I do”

Sirius lets out a questioning noise.

“Aim for the next year, next morning. Wait for it to get better”

Sirius goes for his hand, takes it in his and holds it tight. They stay silent for a while.

“I used to tell myself” Remus says, and it’s evident he is fighting back tears “it will get better, just wait until you move out, until you make friends, until someone likes you, and now- now I’ve got all I asked for and it’s still here. Still fucking everywhere”

Sirius knows he aches, but it’s always a blow to be remembered of the extent of it. He understands bits and pieces – he knows that it’s never over – but he could never understand it completely. How does one carry something so corrosive? He wishes he could take some of it.

“It’s like- I’ve got such beautiful things, and why don’t I get to touch them and enjoy them, why don’t I get to reach them and let them all in. And I want it now, I want to play my cello now, I want to be in your mouth now, wanted it all night. I’m sick and tired of waiting for it to get better, of feeling miserable where I should feel good.”

Remus is crying at that point. Sirius feels on the brink of it as well, but he can’t make it worse, so he just sits back and holds on to his hand and waits it out. It’s the only thing there is to do, and he knows it works just as well as Remus does. Plus, they have time. And it’s not as if the cello can go anywhere.

Remus eventually calms down, throws his head back and closes his eyes. Sirius could never – when he is hurt, he either suppresses it or tries to make something out of it. But Remus’ hurt is of a different kind, and he just has to sit with it sometimes. Maybe that’s how one carries something so corrosive.

Sirius gets up for water and chocolate. He pauses to stare at one of their photos, the mirror selfie where Sirius has his legs wrapped around Remus’ waist and they’re both wearing red so it’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. It had been such a joyous day and he holds on to it, happiness where happiness should be.

“Ah, cheers” Remus thanks him.

“Cheers, mate”

“Cheers, bro”

Sirius smiles, wraps a hand around Remus’ ankle and lays his head on his knee. He almost falls asleep, again.

“I think I had enough wallowing. Back to bed?”

Sirius allows a couple more minutes of wallowing, until the discomfort of his position is unbearable.

Once in the room, he lays down while Remus shuffles around, doing whatever. When he gets to bed, he clings to Sirius and Sirius holds him close, hands running through his hair.

There are more hard nights, probably harder nights ahead, and not all the following mornings will be bright. But some will, and Sirius thinks about those as he falls asleep, for good.


End file.
